Voice of the Empress
by polizia
Summary: Main plot/Civil War/Companions
1. Awake

The first thing she noticed when she awoke was the dull aching pain in the back of her skull. It hinted at what had happened she knew, yet for the life of her could not remember anything. The second thing she noticed was that her wrists were bound. This was not good, on the one occasion before that she had awoken with her wrists bound before, the rest of her family had not awoken with her. She winced at that pain, stronger and still more painful than any bruise on the back of her head.

The seat she was slumped on suddenly jolted, a similar jolt had probably been what had awoken her- she certainly didn't feel ready to wake up. She emptied her mind of thoughts of the past and tried to focus in on the confused sounds around her. She heard a horse whinny, over the constant noise of wood on stone- wheels turning. She reached down and grasped the solid wood below her. On a cart then: the plot thickens.

A voice suddenly cut through, to her left "Finally woken up have you?" She thought about ignoring the voice and remaining in her listless state but instead forced her eyes open and looked towards where the voice was coming from. A tall blonde Nord sat on the other side of the cart, also in chains. "Who might you be?" he asked as she sat up and took stock of her surroundings. She was sat with three other bound prisoners- three Nords, the talkative one in mail, a dark haired shifty looking man next to him and to her right a very tall, powerfully built man, gagged and bound in chains, not mere rope as on her own wrists. Behind the cart rode a soldier on horseback, another Nord by the looks of him, with long brown hair and a strong face, this one however wearing the red and silver armour of an Imperial Legionnaire.

Just like my father's armour, a though unbidden surged through her mind.

No, she would not think of that now, there are a few more pressing concerns, she thought dryly. To her left another Imperial soldier drove the cart which appeared to be at the end of a convoy including one other cart and several horsed soldiers, one of them dressed resplendent in a General's armour.

"Not the talkative type, ey?" the blonde Nord's voice cut through her observations.

"Sorry," she replied, her voice cracking with her dry throat. "Trying to work out who I am before I commit to an answer."

The Nord laughed. "Aye, that's a pretty lump you've got on your head there. You were trying to cross the border, got caught up in that Imperial ambush with the rest of us." Yes, an ambush- at first she had thought it was bandits making to rob her, as she made her way through the mountains into Skyrim, yet these men had been better armoured than any bandits and fought with better discipline, loosing off arrows at an enemy she couldn't see. She had tried to run, away from the battle raging ahead on the road, but had tripped in her haste, seemingly smashing her head on the floor. Not the most heroic way to get captured, she thought.

The darker toned Nord to her right had joined in the conversation and now turned to face her. "You and me, we shouldn't even be here, it's these Stormcloaks they want!" Had the Imperial Army really taken her for a Nord rebel?

"I was only trying to run away," she said looking towards the man; he was clad in rags and had a massive scar across his cheek.

"Me too," he replied. "I could have been halfway to Hammerfell by now." He looked towards the blonde man. "Skyrim was all good until you Stormcloaks came along, Empire was nice and lazy."

The man just gave him a look of contempt and instead looked across the cart. "I'm Ralof of Riverwood," he said- looking into her eyes. "Who are you then, Breton?"

"My name is Claudia Avici."

His eyes widened. "No Breton then! Do the Legionnaires know they have an Imperial in chains?"

"I shall try and let them know as soon as possible," Claudia said whilst turning to look at the driver of their cart, who was paying them no heed. Further ahead, the General had moved ahead bearing left down the hill, only just visible through the early morning mists. He would be the one to appeal to when they stopped.

They sat in silence for a while, Claudia sitting up straighter as she felt the sun begin to warm her back. It also illuminated the scenery they went past- wild bushes and shrubs dotted the hillside to the right of the cart, whilst butterflies and birds flew through the air nearby. At one point a deer, startled by their progress ran across the road in front of them and into the woods behind Claudia.

"Do Stormcloak prisoners get fed?" Claudia asked after a while. Ralof chuckled and gave her a look of pity.

"I don't think we'll be having another meal as long as we live," he said sadly.

"What?" the man to his left said. "I haven't eaten for two days already. Do they mean to starve us to death?"

"You should have eaten that horse you stole, thief," Ralof retorted.

The thief gave him a dirty look but didn't rise to the argument. "Who's he?" he said instead, pointing towards the gagged man to Claudia's right. He had barely moved since she had woken and did not even look up at the sound of the thief's voice.

"Show some respect, that's Jarl Ulfric you're pointing at, Lord of Windhelm and the true High King of Skyrim"

The thief's face blanched. "The leader of the rebellion?" he asked in a squeaky voice. Ralof nodded in response, "Oh gods, where are they taking us?"

"I don't know, but Sovngarde awaits," Ralof said glumly, leaning back against the chair and looking skywards.

"Now I see what you mean about your last meal," Claudia said.

"Your last meal? It'll be all our last meals Imperial; you really think the Legion will let you go- once you've been shackled that's it for you."

Claudia gave him a defiant stare but did not reply. She thought back to what her father had said about the bureaucracy of the Legion- she could only hope the General was more concerned with not killing her unjustly than having to fill out some paperwork.

A town appeared before them; small stone walls and gates agape, a roaring fire beyond them, as if welcoming them into the gates of Oblivion. "Ah, Helgen," Ralof said wistfully. "Not two miles from where I was born- I used to be sweet on a girl from round here," He licked his lips. "And I wonder if Helga still makes that wine with Juniper berries in?"

Jarl Ulfric gave a muffled laugh and startled Claudia. He had sat up, towering over her and seemed to be paying much more attention to the surroundings.

"Where are you from, horse thief?" Ralof asked.

"W-why?" the thief asked, distracted from his moping.

"A Nord's last thoughts should be of home," he grinned towards Claudia. "And an Imperial's"

"I'm from Rorikstead," the thief said. "I'm Lokir, son of Sven."

Ralof looked expectantly at Claudia. "I'm from the Imperial City," she said, quietly after a moment. The greatest city in all of Tamriel, all stone and marble and beautiful fountains, she still remembered playing in the Arboretum as a child- a whole district of the city populated only by beauty of Cyodilic nature, she still remembered marvelling at the huge statue of the dragon in the Temple of Akatosh, the dragon which had saved the world 200 years ago. And of course, the White-Gold tower, vast and immovable, just like the whole city had seemed to be.

Of course that had all been before... before the Great War.

The cart trundled through the gateways and into the town of Helgen, more of a village if truth be told, a collection of wooden houses wound into the side of a hill. The village was all out to greet them, children playing in the streets, wives and mothers and the men all performing their morning duties, though they quickly moved aside when the convoy approached them. It was not only the villagers out to greet them however; there was another force there, one which both Claudia and Ralof tensed at the sight of.

"I see your friends the Thalmor are here," Ralof said to her.

My friends? Claudia thought bitterly; the killers of my father, my brothers and the scourers of my beloved homeland, they shall only be my friends when I have destroyed every single one of them and cleansed the Summerset Isle with their blood. She affixed Ralof with a look which could have curdled blood. "The Thalmor are not my friends."

He at least had the good grace to look abashed. "They are no one's friends I shouldn't doubt," he said, half apologising. "Except General Tullius, or so it would seem." Claudia looked towards where the General had peeled off from the group to talk to the elves at the side of the road.

Claudia clenched her fist. Her father would never have treated with the enemy like this General was doing, the sight of it made her feel ill and for a moment she almost felt some sympathy for the Stormcloak cause. She looked at Ulfric, who too was giving the elves a look of hatred.

Well, that at least we have in common, Claudia thought. That and the fact that we're both about to get our heads chopped off. From the small amounts of news she'd heard when travelling to and from Whiterun over the past years, Ulfric had been in the legion during the Great War but now fought for an independent Skyrim, though in truth many felt he fought only for his own personal glory. Looking at him, Claudia saw a capable warrior, but there were certainly the signs of a vainglorious leader in there- the fancy cloak and great gold chains around his neck.

In any case, he had torn Skyrim apart when he had killed High King Torygg, which Claudia had only learnt three weeks past at an inn outside Bruma, and anything which tore Skyrim apart only made the Empire weaker and the Thalmor stronger. Claudia glanced once more at Ulfric sitting there with his clenched fists. However, much you hate them, they probably love you, she thought. They only profited from the division of the North, they'll be almost as upset about your death as you will be.

A cloud rolled across the sun and it grew cold as the temperature suddenly fell into keeping with the early spring month it was. Claudia shivered as the cart rolled to a stop. "Why are we stopping?" Lokir asked in that whiny voice of his.

"Why do you think," Ralof replied. "End of the Line." He turned to Claudia who had stayed seated. "Best move quickly, wouldn't want to keep the Gods waiting now, would we?"

Claudia shuffled to the edge of the cart and jumped off, standing behind Ulfric as the Legionnaire who had ridden behind then called out names. "Ulfric Stormcloak, Jarl of Windhelm," came the call. The mass in front of her shuffled off towards the headsman's block Claudia only now saw on the other side of the square. "Ralof of Riverwood," the blonde Stormcloak strode off to join his Lord.

To the side the prisoners of the other cart were called out and strode over to wait for their death. Lokir was not so willing to accept his fate, however. "I'm not a rebel, please, you have to listen!" Claudia heard him shouting.

"I'm not interested, get to the block prisoner!" A Redguard legionnaire shouted back with her voice at an equal volume and with a lot more threat behind it.

"No, you'll never kill me!" Lokir declared and set off at a run towards the gates.

The Redguard woman didn't even turn around. "Archers!" she called.

Lokir's hands were still bound and he couldn't get any speed up as he waddled towards the gates, which he quickly realised were now closed. Claudia saw the look of dismay on his face for a second as he span around, frantically searching for a way out, before he went tumbling to the floor, three arrows sticking through his chest.

"Anyone else feel like running?" the Redguard woman leered a tad unnecessarily, as it was only Claudia who remained to be sorted. The Nord next to her looked up at her and then down at his sheet, pulling a rather confused face, before turning to his compatriot. "There's no one else, she's not on the list."

The Redguard woman looked irritated. "Come here!" she called to Claudia. "Who are you, girl?"

"Claudia Avici, ma'am," Claudia said, head bowed. "Imperial."

"I don't care what you are, go to the block!"

Claudia stared at her, well politeness hadn't worked. "How many Imperials do you know who have joined the Stormcloaks?" she said bluntly.

The Redguard looked ready to kill her right there but the Nord intervened. "We've heard of no one of that description in the Stormcloaks, let alone in Ulfric's own bodyguard," he said.

"She was with them, that's as much proof as you need Hadvar."

"Still, best to make sure before we execute the Emperor's cousin or something," Hadvar said, smiling at Claudia.

"Bah, she looks more a cousin to a wraith than an Emperor," the Redguard scoffed. "Very well, follow me prisoner, General Tullius will decide."

They strode over the square towards the milling crowd of bound Stormcloaks, surrounded by a ring of Imperial soldiers, swords drawn. A man was already face-down on the block, yet his words cut through the air. "My ancestors are smiling on me Imperials, can you say the same?" The headsman raised his axe. "Talos save..." his words were cut off as the sword came down, killing him instantly, though it took another blow to sever his head.

The Stormcloaks took it silently though Claudia heard a child crying behind her as the blood poured out of the stump where the defiant Nord's head had once been. Ralof turned as he saw her approaching. "As brave in death as he was in life," he said as she passed.

General Tullius had no eyes for the execution, instead he was berating Ulfric. "Some here in Helgen call you a hero. But a hero doesn't use a power like the voice to murder his king and usurp his throne," Ulfric looked down at Tullius and growled through his gag. He stood over a foot above the General, yet looking at the two leaders; Claudia thought a fight between them would be close indeed. The General was lean, wiry and stood light on his feet as he rocked from heel to toe shouting at Ulfric. "You started this war, plunged Skyrim into chaos, and now the Empire is going to put you down and restore peace."

"Sorry to interrupt General," the Redguard said, causing the General to spin suddenly in their direction. "We have someone who wasn't on the list."

The General stared at the Redguard. "What do I care, Legate?" he asked. "All the rebel scum are to die, by order of the Emperor!"

The Legate looked at Hadvar, "I told you..." but was cut off by Claudia pushing herself forward.

"Sir, please... General Tullius..." she began. He turned his stare towards her, face hard set in anger though upon seeing her it quickly faded away to be replaced by confusion.

"Do I know you?" he snapped.

"Sir..."

"Wait," his expression softened."You're... you're Itius' girl aren't you... Clavia? Cl..

"Claudia," she responded. He knew her father! She may yet be saved.

"Ah yes," the General smiled turning to the Redguard Legate. "Do not kill this girl, take her to the keep and give her a meal, she looks like she needs it," he smiled again.

His face is totally transformed when he looks like that, she thought. Father had been the same, so serious when with his soldiers and sons, only Claudia and Mum had ever been allowed to see him smile.

Tullius' own smile did not last long, however, as he turned back to the task in hand. "Why have you stopped?" he barked. "Give Ulfric his last rites."

The Imperial soldiers bustled back into their roles one man grabbing hold of Ulfric and pulling him towards the block. He was quickly shrugged off however and Ulfric strode the rest of the way himself.

As he lay his head down upon the block however, a blood curdling shriek cut through the air, stopping the Priestess short.

Claudia turned towards the mountain, hearing the noise again, this time from behind her. Something passed over the sun casting a shadow over the square.

"What in Oblivion is that?" Tullius shouted. Claudia turned once more and saw it, a vast winged beast, black as ebony with eyes red, like two burning coals, eyes which appeared to be staring straight at her...

"D-d-d-dragon!" came the voice of the Priestess before everything went white.


	2. Aflame

A wave of pure heat came through the square as Claudia threw herself to the ground, rolling out of the worst of the blast. The Redguard Legate beside her was not so lucky, falling to the ground with a clatter, cooking in her iron suit; Claudia saw all the flesh burned away from her face.

"Woman, follow me," she heard a deep voice and saw Ulfric above her, moving off towards a tower without waiting for an answer. The dragon circled away high in the sky, turning to drop back towards the town straight as an arrow, wings tucked and flame rolling from the mouth. Claudia did not hesitate but ran, stumbling twice over potholes and dead bodies before reaching the stone tower on the edge of town.

She felt the heat on her back as she crashed through the door, Ralof slamming it behind her. Ulfric stood there panting, sweat dripping off his face.

"Was that really a dragon of legend?" Ralof asked undoing Claudia's bonds.

"Do legends attack and burn down cities?" Ulfric laughed in return. He put a hand on his soldier's arm comfortingly. "We can't stay here; either the dragon or the Imperials will finish us unless we move." He looked towards Claudia. "You, the General's pet," Claudia bridled but remained silent. "Go up through the tower with Thorund; see if you can find a way out of the town. Ralof, Snorri look in the adjoining buildings." He had a voice built for command, there was power in the very words he spoke and Claudia found herself obeying him almost involuntarily.

She hurried up the stone steps behind the mail clad Thorund, a slight man with a Battle-Axe too big for him. They climbed two storeys looking for a window from where they could lower themselves down out of the town but their search was cut short when the wall to their right suddenly exploded and a dragon head smashed through, driving Thorund into the wall with a crunch. Claudia leapt back automatically, avoiding the head which thrashed around breathing fire before snarling and withdrawing.

She landed lightly, somehow on her feet and darted up past the bloody remains of Thorund. The hole left by the dragon's head was more than large enough to fit through, and led out to the attic of a wooden house below. She leapt without thought, rolling to absorb the impact before stamping on the brittle floor to get through to the ground, coughing smoke as she did so. Through the door, the sight of the dragon faced her, chasing an old man across the floor. Claudia sprinted to the right towards the stone walls where she sought shelter between house and wall.

"Ah, I was wondering where you'd got to prisoner!" she heard to her right, recognising the voice of Hadvar the Legionnaire. He had with him a little boy who looked as though he had just been sick, yellow stains covering his green doublet. "Stay with me if you want to stay alive," Hadvar commanded.

"If you keep me alive, I'll give you anything in the world," Claudia responded through panted breaths, forcing a smile.

Hadvar laughed, "I'll keep you to that," he said. "Right, are you ready to go Samel?" he looked anxiously towards the child who returned a wide eyed stare. "Time to be brave little one..."

He grabbed the boy and raced across the square, not looking back to see if Claudia was following. The littered bodies blocked the way and the smell of roasting flesh was enough to make Claudia gag as she ran behind Hadvar. To her right General Tullius was yelling at his soldiers, all of them fruitlessly firing arrows in the air.

"Abandon the town!" he shouted. "Get the women and children to safety!" Claudia made to run to him but was cut off by the presence of the dragon who swooped down, jaws agape. She dropped to the floor and looked up as the dragon passed over her, narrowly avoiding the grasping claws. Hadvar did likewise but the boy Samel was less lucky, plucked from besides the Legionnaire and carried off into the air, only to be dropped as the dragon flew high and circled back for yet another attack.

Hadvar cursed and looked away from the falling child, taking Claudia's hand in his stead and leading her away towards a small stone building by the wall. Coming in completely the opposite direction they saw Ralof and Ulfric approaching. All three drew their swords. "Out of my way Legionnaire," Ulfric said menacingly.

"You'll not escape your punishment traitor!" Hadvar yelled.

Claudia pulled on his arm. "Don't be so stupid!" she shouted, to Ralof and Ulfric as much as to Hadvar. "We'll all die unless we move soon." Hadvar looked at her, giving time for the Stormcloaks to edge around and run off. He cursed again and shrugged off her hand, running into the outbuilding, Claudia following.


	3. Riverwood

Riverwood stretched below them, tranquil and glowing in the warm spring sunshine. Claudia had to look back up the valley to the pillar of smoke to remind her they were but two miles from the scene of devastation that had just occurred. They had seen no trace of survivors on the route here and Claudia shuddered to think of the death toll. Helgen would be a dead town for many years, she thought. If it ever recovered at all.

Riverwood was still thriving however. She saw the lumber mill moving, logs sawn by the power of water, and could hear the squawks of chickens, the bleating of goats and the hammer on anvil from the Smithy all below her. It was to the smithy that she and Hadvar were headed. His uncle Alvor was the blacksmith here in Riverwood and could offer them shelter after their exhausting flight from Helgen.

And food, Claudia thought, I hope they have food. They walked along the road into the village savouring the leisurely pace. They had been running, or in a state of panic since the dragon had swooped down on Ulfric's execution. The stone building they had fled to had been a route through to the dungeons, from whence there was a secret passage out into the open air, though not before encountering some giant spiders. Even in the open air, well away from Helgen, they had not stopped running, pausing only to hide as the shadow of the great black dragon passed over them before shooting off North West.

"Ah, it's good to be home," Hadvar said as they passed into the village and towards the smithy. It was a very charming place, the river burbling past four or five houses, an inn and a mill, all very picturesque next to the green of the valley floor. Claudia couldn't help but wonder about what might happen should the dragon attack here though: none of the buildings were stone and there was not a single legionnaire or guard to protect the townsfolk from their deaths.

Pushing aside such morbid thoughts, she turned to Hadvar and smiled. "It must have been nice to grow up here."

"Oh, it was, though I always felt a little bored, truth be told," he laughed. "What I would give for a little boredom now." Hadvar's anger at Claudia allowing Ulfric to escape had lessened as they wandered through the caves and dungeons below Helgen together. It had been Claudia who had found the way out, and now Hadvar kindly claimed that he was as much in her debt as he was in hers.

"With luck, the next few days shall be very boring indeed," Claudia replied.

"The next few days? I'm just about ready to retire; I might ask my Uncle if I can take over his smithy."

They were upon the smithy now, a modest forge and workbench, a rotund bald man with a blacksmith's apron bent over it hammering some molten metal into shape.

"Uncle," Hadvar called.

The man looked up. "Hadvar!" he exclaimed coming to meet them, arms open in embrace. "Good to see you, m'boy- looking dashing as ever in your armour, I see it still has the same effect on the ladies."

Hadvar blushed. "Claudia's just a friend Uncle, look..."

"Aha, a friend is it? That's what I always said to Sigrid," he guffawed loudly. "A very pretty young friend I..."

"Uncle!" Hadvar cut in. "Have you not heard?"

Alvor's face went grave. "Hadvar, is something wrong? Is it your father?"

""No, nothing like that, has no one come from Helgen?"

"No, you're the first person to come down today."

Hadvar looked shocked. "Then, gods, no one survived."

Claudia put her hand on his arm. "They may have gone a different way outside the city Hadvar, don't worry."

"You look about ready to throw up, lad. Come inside and tell me what's happened."

Inside a woman and a small girl were sat at a table eating bread and fish. "Hadvar!" shouted the girl as they entered, leaping up and running to him, hugging him around the shins.

Despite himself Hadvar grinned. "Why, hello Dorthe, you get bigger every time I see you!"

"I'm taller than Frodnar," she said proudly. "Though Daddy won't let me make my own sword yet."

Hadvar laughed and moved to sit down. "Hello Aunt Sigrid," he smiled towards the auburn haired woman who remained seated.

Claudia remained by the door, unsure of herself but Alvor had none of it. "Come in girl he said, have some food," he said, steering her to a seat. "Sigrid, this is Claudia, Hadvar's young lady."

Hadvar didn't blush this time. "Uncle, a dragon attacked Helgen. The town is a ruin, pretty much everyone is dead."

Alvor took a sharp intake of breath. "A dragon, are you..."

"It was most definitely a dragon," Claudia said. "Take a look at these burns." She rolled back her right sleeve to show where the flames had licked at her. "Ulfric was about to be executed when it attacked."

"Ulfric!" Sigrid exclaimed. "That King-Slayer now has dragons on his side?"

"No, it wasn't Ulfric's," Hadvar said, though he looked thoughtful. "At least, I don't think so... I saw it attacking the Stormcloak men too. For all we know Ulfric is still dead, General Tullius too."

"No," Alvor said with certainty. "If Tullius is half the man I remember, he'll have survived." He picked up a roll of bread and played with it a little before suddenly exclaiming. "Dragons! They've been dead for hundreds of years, thousands!"

"What can it mean?" Sigrid asked.

Alvor puffed out his cheeks. "I don't know what to think," he said. "Hadvar, you need to head to Solitude and report this to the high command there as soon as possible." He turned to Claudia. "I also need you to do a favour for me," he said solemnly. "The Jarl of Whiterun must know about this, we will need much more protection for unguarded Riverwood."

Claudia leapt to her feet. "Of course," she said. "I'll go at once!"

Sigrid laughed. "My dear, the dragons will wait. You look half dead; you and Hadvar shall eat and stay the night before going." Hadvar looked about to complain. "And I shall have no arguments!"


	4. Whiterun

Hadvar and Claudia set out the next day for Whiterun, visiting the Sleeping Giant Inn beforehand with Alvor. The barman was a rather taciturn fellow called Orgnar and his wife Delphine, though they did stock some Skingrad wine, much to Claudia's delight. Alvor paid for it all before announcing that he would gift Claudia a freshly forged sword, despite her protests- "nothing less for my future niece, ey" he kept repeating, no matter how many times Hadvar corrected him.

Afterwards, food was provided at Alvor's house and they bid farewell. "Thank you so much for all of our kindness," Claudia exclaimed as they left. "I don't think I shall ever be able to repay you!"

"Get those guards sent to Riverwood," Sigrid said. "And any debt is paid thrice over."

The walk to Whiterun was longer than from Helgen to Riverwood, though just as pleasant, following the river along the valley floor as the sun beat down, mountains capped in white on either side. "Look there," Hadvar said pointing up towards some ruins on the side of a mountain overlooking Riverwood. "That there is Bleak Falls Barrow, built by the old Nords. Always used to give me nightmares as a kid that did."

"It doesn't look that scary!"

"That's because it's sunny," Hadvar said indignantly. "You should see it in a storm, lightning flashing behind it- then tell me you're not scared."

Claudia made to reply but instead put a finger to her lips and pointed. An elk wandered past on the other side of the river, not 30 yards from them. Hadvar turned, but Claudia was already beyond him treading silently sword in hand. She waded into the river, moving downstream to prevent splashing before crawling into the grass and edging forwards, around to the back of the elk, downwind, not five yards away.

The elk stiffened as she approached, sniffing the air, before sighting Hadvar on the other side of the river. Panicking, he turned and ran, right into Claudia's blade. She drove it up through the open mouth of the beast and into the brain, killing it instantly.

The skinning and cutting of the meat was done there and then on the side of the road, granting them some odd looks from a hooded Khajiti merchant passing by. By the time it was done, it was well past noon. "These steaks should keep you going all the way to Solitude," Claudia said.

"Aye, I won't have to pay for any food in that awful inn in Rorikstead either," he said. "It's a good job I saved your life really, I could never have got anywhere near that deer."

"My father taught me from when I was very young," Claudia said, reminiscing. "He used to have me stalk blackbirds through the city. I never caught one until the day I was 13. The day he died." Hadvar eyed her silently as a tear rolled down her cheek. "His lessons still serve me well," Claudia smiled and wiped the tear away, walking forward.

They reached Whiterun just before dark and parted outside the gates. The sunset framed the Dragonsreach Keep, looking even more imposing in the late evening light. Claudia had been here before, but only within the Plains district, she had never been sent with a message to anyone higher in the social order.

"Goodbye then, Claudia," Hadvar said awkwardly.

"Thank you for saving my life Hadvar," Claudia replied embracing him.

He smiled. "You should come to Solitude," he said suddenly. "When... when you've talked to the Jarl of Whiterun about the dragons and everything. You'd be a great addition to the legion."

"The legion?" Claudia was shocked; of all the jobs she could imagine doing- legionnaire was the last one she could envisage. "Can you imagine me fighting anyone, killing anyone?"

"You killed that elk easily enough, with no little skill."

"I imagine it might have been different if the elk had an axe and was charging at me screaming." Hadvar looked disappointed. "Something to think about though," she smiled and left him, walking towards the gates.

A guard blocked the way, it wasn't one of the ones Claudia recognised either.

"There's to be no one entering Whiterun without the Jarl's permission, with the dragon threat about," he said bluntly.

"I have news about the dragons the Jarl needs to hear," the guard looked unconvinced. "I was at Helgen."

"Of course you were," the guard said scornfully. "Little thing like you escaping from a dragon I find hard to believe."

"The dragon though about eating me, but decided I wasn't worth his while," Claudia smiled sweetly.

"Ah, I can see you're not going to give up. Alright then, in with you- but any trouble and you'll be kicked out. I'm watching you!"

"Who dares approach the Jarl in the midst of his council?" asked the Dark Elf, sword drawn, advancing towards Claudia.

"I have news of the dragons, my lady," Claudia replied smiling.

"I'm nobody's lady," the Dark Elf scowled. "We already know about the drag-"

"Let her come forth Irileth," a powerful voice called from above. "She looks too meek to be a lackey, let alone an assassin."

Claudia tentatively climbed the steps until she was level with the throne. Facing her were three men, two stood and one on the throne. The Jarl was a tall man with blonde hair and a square jaw, whilst his brother was yet taller and more muscly by far. The third man was an Imperial, short and balding. "You have news of the dragons?" the Jarl asked impatiently.

Claudia curtseyed nervously. "Yes, my Lord. I was at Helgen."

"And...?"

"And, the town is destroyed, everyone there is dead or wounded- I only escaped by fleeing through the dungeons."

The Jarl exhaled loudly. "And Ulfric? Tullius?" he demanded.

"I don't know, Lord, General Tullius was trying to fight it when I last saw him- Ulfric was leaving through a gate."

"So, Proventus," the Jarl said turning to his right. "Still think the Dragons are only a story?"

"Well, my Jarl, I never said..." the Imperial said, stuttering.

"Let the dragons come brother. I shall kill them as I do all your enemies," the man mountain to the Jarl's right spoke and Claudia fancied the floor trembled, Proventus certainly twitched.

"No Hrongar, swords alone will not win us this fight; we need to know how to defeat them. Irileth, tell Farengar that his dragon research is now of utmost importance."

"At once, sire."

"Hrongar, Proventus, I need to sleep on this problem, we shall meet again on the morrow to discuss it." Proventus bowed and Hrongar nodded and they both left. "Now..."

"Claudia," she smiled.

"Now Claudia, I must reward you. You sought me out on your own initiative to tell me about the dragons, what boon would you have of me?"

"If it would please my Lord, could you send some guards to Riverwood, please? The town is defenceless against dragon attack."

"Of course I shall!" the Jarl boomed. "A worthy request." He stood up but stopped short seeing Claudia still stood there.

She bobbed her head nervously. "And if my Jarl would be so kind as to gift me 10 Septims," she said hurriedly, rushing over the words. "So as to... to have a place to sleep, please, my Lord."

The Jarl laughed loudly. "Two boons!" he exclaimed. "Do you seek to ruin me, girl? Next you will be asking for the office of Jarlessa." Claudia stood patiently whilst he reached into his cloak and brought forth some coins for her. "Saying that," the Jarl said, looking down and considering her. "There are worse candidates for that position." Claudia mumbled some thanks and fled down the steps into the cold night air.

The upper part of Whiterun was deserted as she made her way through the dark houses and streets lit by the occasional lantern. There was much more life down by the Plains District however, a fire was lit in the middle of the market place where two guards warmed themselves before moving off to continue their rounds. To her left, Claudia heard the familiar sounds of an inn during evening-time, singing and laughter emanating from inside.

Claudia approached money tightly held in her clenched fist and opened the door. The Bannered Mare, the inn was called- the one time she had stayed in this inn before the Landlady had told her the story of where the name came from at least three times- something about a dead General and his horse, she thought, pushing the door open and stepping into the warm pungent air of the inn.

It was not as full as she had suspected, there was plenty of space on the benches and chairs dotted around though there was a healthy number of empty tankards on the tables. She approached the bar, the Landlady Hulda smiling warmly at the new potential customer, though there was no recognition in her eyes.

"Are there any beds left for the night?" Claudia asked over the din of a man behind her who had suddenly burst into song.

"Aye, m'dear, you're in luck! 8 Septims will see you with a nice warm place to rest your head."

"What will 10 Septims get me?" Claudia asked. I might as well use it all, she thought. I should be able to get back to Bruma by tomorrow evening if I get up at first light and the steaks will keep me going.

Hulda smiled. "10 Septims will get you a drink now and an apple in the morning."

"Make that an apple and a glass of milk tomorrow and you're on," Claudia replied.

"You Imperials and your haggling," Hulda laughed. "Done." She reached behind the bar for a tankard. "What will you be drinking then?" she asked.

"A glass of red wine, please," Claudia asked. Hulda smiled and poured, her mind already onto the next customer.

Claudia took her wine and wandered over to an empty bench, taking a sip of wine from her tankard, feeling very Nordic as she did so. The wine was very strong, though not unpleasant to the taste and she drank it quite quickly, watching the comings and goings of the inn. For the most part it was populated by Nord men, though the occasional woman could be spotted around, usually drinking and singing at least as loud as the men. One person, however, stuck out greatly from the rest of the inn-goers. The serving girl was a Redguard, with dark skin and eyes as black as night. She kept her eyes downcast and Claudia didn't see ehr speak to a single customer save for what her duties commanded. Nevertheless she was frequently the centre of attention in the inn, especially from the male inhabitants, eyes watching (and eyes occasionally grabbing for) her elegant and shapely form.

"Good evening, m'lady, I don't believe I have seen you in here before, a voice said suddenly, breaking Claudia away from her thoughts, even she had been entranced by the Redguard's beauty. She looked up to see who addressed her. It was a man, with flowing blonde hair and lute in hand, short for a Nord and thinly built too, though with flashing blue eyes and a bright smile.

Claudia smiled back, the wine doing most of the smiling for her. "I've only been here once before and that was back in the autumn, just as the leaves were turning brown."

"I must not have been here that night, else you would already know me," the bard said boldly, Claudia had to laugh. "I am Mikael, best bard in the whole of Skyrim."

"Claudia, best, erm... best Imperial in this inn."

Mikael sat down next to her. "Most beautiful Imperial in this inn, certainly," he said smoothly.

Claudia snorted. "I'm the only Imperial in the inn!" She had his number already and would have told him to get lost if not for the half tankard of wine she had already drunk.

"Most beautiful woman in the inn, I meant," he corrected himself and laid a hand on her arm. "You shouldn't be wearing these rags, you should be dressed in the finest gowns of the Blue Palace," he declared.

Claudia wrinkled her face up in amusement. "You don't think the Redguard serving girl over there is more attractive than I?"

Mikael didn't stop for more than a beat, Claudia was impressed. "Ah, whilst some men prefer the exotic beauties of the West, I am all for the Southern girls," he stroked her hand. "Their soft, pale skin, dark black hair and grey eyes you could get lost in forever."

Claudia pulled her hand back. "You mean: I tried it on with the serving girl but she wasn't having it so I've moved onto you."

Mikael's eyes widened in shock before he leaned back and laughed. "3 weeks she's been here and I only know her name through talking to Hulda!" he cried bitterly, seemingly giving up on Claudia.

"Well if you admitted defeat as quickly as you did with me, I'm not surprised!"

Mikael grinned again. "Ah, my heart wasn't in hit- in my pomp, no women in Skyrim could resist, not even Queen Elisif the Fair," he glanced sideways at Claudia. "Sorry, you're not really my type."

It was Claudia's turn to look shocked. "Remind me never to trust a compliment from a man ever again!" she exclaimed, taking a swig of wine and slamming it onto the table for emphasis.

"A wise move m'lady," Mikael replied, before turning as a hand gripped him on the shoulder.

"There you are Mikael, you rogue!" A large portly Nord shouted down in the general direction of the bard. "We need your lute for this next song." His eyes focused down on Claudia for the first time. "Stop hogging all the women for yourself, you need to share such rare treasures as these around!"

"Of course Torvar, I go where I am needed! Never let it be said I shirk my duty," he turned back to Claudia and smiled. "Fancy a sing-song?"

"I don't think so," Claudia said, shaking her head.

"Come!" Torvar yelled, bounding round the table to lift her by the arm. He smelt even worse than he looked, beer and urine stains populating the most unlikely corners of his animal skin jerkin. Claudia grabbed his arm to stop falling as the floor moved unsteadily beneath her feet. Torvar beamed down on her. "For every song you sing, I'll buy you another tankard of wine."


	5. Dragonborn

AN- This is where the story starts earning its M rating.

If you dislike blood and guts, stop reading.

She awoke that morning to a hammering at a door, a noise which somehow managed to be both louder and more painful than anything she had ever heard before.

"Whaaaaa..." she called out.

"The Jarl has need of you," a voice called. Her Uncle? What did he know about Jarl's?

Cursing inwardly, Claudia wrenched her eyes open and rolled onto the floor. She landed with a loud thump which seemed to convince whoever was outside of her intentions as she heard mailed footsteps plodding away outside. She took stock and stared at the ceiling. A small amount of light filtered through the door, but nowhere near enough to suggest that it was day.

No, it couldn't have been her Uncle; she was here in Whiterun and he was all the back in Bruma...

The _Jarl_, realisation of the stranger's words hit home. What on earth would the Jarl want with her? She stood up unsteadily, ignoring the complaints from her stomach and spinning vision. She was still fully dressed, and she could find no water to either wash or parch her throat, so it was a rather bleary eyed, cracked lipped Claudia who emerged through her door into the silent inn. Her hair was stuck to one side of her head so she ruffled it as she moved downstairs, attempting to yawn silently. There was no one about in bar area, so she stepped over the broken glass and discarded tankards to reach the door.

She thought back to the night. She vaguely remembered standing on _that_ table and, she winced, falling off _that_ table. She looked at the broken wood at the edge where she had jumped down on the wood- maybe it wouldn't be the best idea to try and claim that glass of milk and apple I'm owed, she thought guiltily.

Outside she took a while to find her bearings but soon started up the hill, following the stream, pausing to take a long drink from it and wash the worst of last night's grime away. She looked at a reflection of herself, still nowhere near fit for Dragonsreach but it would have to do. Fearful of having kept the Jarl waiting for a long time already, Claudia half jogged, half ran the rest of the way, past the great tree which stood in the centre of the Wind District and the great hall of Jorrvaskr to her right, up to the fortress. The gates were already wide open and the guard paid her no heed as she sprinted in. There she found a gathering of twenty or more guards surrounding the figures of the Jarl, Irileth, Hrongar and a man whom Claudia had not seen before, hooded in a blue/grey cloak, very tall though almost skeletally thin.

"The legends claim they can be killed just as any mortal being, through sword, spear, arrow or magic..." the hooded man left the last word hanging in he air.

"I've already told you Farengar, you are not to go, I can't risk your life, we shall need brains as much as brawn to slay these beasts, if not more so," The Jarl replied.

"As you wish, my Lord," Farengar stepped aside.

"Ah, she finally arrives," the Jarl looked down as Claudia approached. "Speak quickly, girl, we need to hear all of your experience with the dragon at Helgen. Did it have any perceivable weaknesses," he shook his head, eyes wide, almost in desperation. "Is there any way of... beating this beast!"

Claudia thought for a moment. "It was in the air near constantly, Lord," she said breathing heavily, trying to look only at the face of Jarl Balgruuf and not the 20 or 30 guards staring at her intently.

"Swords will be useless I'm afraid, bows and arrows may be enough to bring it down, if you injure one of the wings perhaps?" Irileth nodded at this and Claudia took encouragement. "Staying in cover would be essential, to avoid the flames that come out its mouth, though once on the floor with enough men attacking from all directions, the dragon might be slain."

The Jarl stood up from his throne. "Irileth take these men to the armoury and give each a bow and two quivers of arrows before setting off for the Western watchtower immediately," he looked to his brother. "Hrongar take a horse and ride swiftly to the Northern watchtower, take all the men save the captain and head to join the battle with Irileth."

The Jarl looked around him. "This dragon can be slain," his voice rose. "This dragon shall be slain! I see before me some of the finest men I have ever known, my sworn shields- the finest men in any of the holds of Skyrim!

"Soon, it shall be known all over Tamriel of your bravery, Whiterun guards they shall say no more- instead, you shall all be known as the Dragonslayers!" A cheer went up, though Claudia saw that from some guardsmen it was rather half-hearted as they sombrely marched off to the armoury. The Jarl sat back down on his throne and watched his men depart. "May Talos watch over you," he said quietly.

Claudia remained by the throne. "Lord, might I go with your Housecarl," she heard herself say.

The Jarl looked at her curiously. "Why?" he asked simply.

Because a voice in my head told me to? Because I've dreamt about dragons since I was a little girl? she thought, or because I have nothing left to live for and want to try and find as glorious death as possible?

Instead she said: "I saw the devastation the dragon caused at Helgen, I want to stop him before he can cause any more damage," it was definitely a he, she decided.

"Very well," the Jarl said, still studying her. "Your life is yours to throw away as you see fit. Go, follow Irileth."

They made slow going along the road westwards. The guards of Whiterun clad in were clad in mail and struggled to keep up with the pace set by the leather clad Dunmer Irileth. The watchtower came into view soon enough however, though no dragon was to be seen.

As they approached they saw hole ripped into the side of the structure and a fire burning in the grass. "No sign of any dragon at the moment," Irileth declared. "Though it sure looks like he's been here. Spread out, look for signs of survivors!"

The Guards followed orders and Claudia led the way, running towards the tower, bouncing lightly on the springy heather of the plain. The tower looked deserted, but once inside a stench hit Claudia's nose, not dissimilar to the privy in an inn. A man lay just beyond the entrance, his face a serene mask, belying the state of the rest of his body which lay in two pieces, legs and torso separated by three feet and a red mass of blood. His fellows fared little better, one with his helmet collapsed in on his head, stained red, another sitting against the wall, head drooping with brown liquid oozing out of his mouth.

Claudia turned at the sight and smell and threw up on the grass, outside the gate as two guards appeared looking similarly disgusted.

"You've got to..." a voice suddenly came from above them and a man limped gingerly down the tower staircase. "You've got to get away before he comes back."

"Where did he go?" demanded one of the guards with Claudia.

"South, towards the mountains," the guard gestured. "Iorek tried to make a run for it when he went last time, but he got him sure enough." The guard stumbled and fell face first into the remains of one of his compatriots, moving only to roll over and moan in pain.

"Here he comes!" came Irileth's voice from outside. "This is where you show your true valour, men of Whiterun!"

Claudia ran outside and saw the beast approaching from the south, menace in a winged form. It was not the same dragon which had attacked Helgen however; it was much smaller and dark green rather than black, with white eyes, yet just as lethal for all that, swooping down breathing out flames of pure heat, showing a brilliant white against the grey sky and brown ground.

Men leapt out of the way of the flames cursing, yet a few were caught in the full blast and went down to the grass, unmoving. Claudia snatched an arrow from one of the quivers on her back and put it in her bow and firing in one motion. The arrow fell well short, as did those of the rest of the guards, except one which bounced off the tail harmlessly.

We're all going to die, she thought suddenly, watching as the dragon flapped its wings and lifted into the sky unharmed. A similar thought had occurred to one of the men who, with a cry of terror, sprinted away from Claudia's side and across the plain westwards. The dragon saw him go and looped lazily around before plummeting down upon the man, plucking him from the floor and carrying off into the sky. Claudia loosed an arrow again making sure she put all her strength behind it. This time it flew straight and true hitting the dragon on his exposed chest and lodging there.

The dragon gave a roar of annoyance and dropped the man who, flailing his limbs frantically, plunged to the ground next to Claudia, his mail rent in two, body rent in seven. She looked away already loosing an arrow but the dragon was on her quicker than she could draw, mouth wide, roaring and breathing flames.

She leapt aside, tensed to expect the searing heat she had felt in Helgen, receiving an even greater shock when a feeling of intense cold hit her, numbing her to the very bones. She landed and rolled, looking back to where she had stood. The guard next to her had frozen solid on the ground beside her, face blue, armour white and encased in ice.

She had somehow kept hold of her bow and fired another two arrows, one of which hit their mark. Several other archers were finding their range too and the dragon bucked and screeched as he circled through the air. Irileth approached through the chaos, icicles on her face. "Get up the tower," she shouted to Claudia. "Hit him from above, aim for wings!" She ran off to organise men who were huddling beneath a rock.

Claudia followed the instructions, sprinting to the tower as a roar came behind her, and the screams of men hit by the blast. She leapt past the stricken corpses inside the foot of the tower and climbed the stairs, two at a time, legs given extra length by the adrenaline coursing through her. The top of the tower was windswept and, as Claudia left the top of the staircase, suddenly bathed in sunlight, morning finally giving way to day as the sun peeked out over the side of the huge mountain beyond Whiterun.

The dragon swooped down below Claudia, attacking the now dwindling number of men still firing arrows at the beast. Crouched by the edge and steadied against a crenulation she loosed arrow after arrow down upon the dragon, with two vital ones piercing through the right wing. To her intense jubilation she saw blood trickling down, brilliant red against the mottled green of the dragon's skin. The dragon gave a shout of anger louder than any yet issued and landed, taking a guard in his mouth and tossing him to one side as if he was a rag doll.

Irileth approached from the front screaming a challenge as the dragon spread his wings and took off. Claudia saw her raise a longsword and leap but then disappear under the mass of the dragon. She held her breath for a second but shouted in exultation as Irileth reappeared, the dragon flown over and her longsword tipped in red.

The dragon was infuriated now, snapping left and right as he made his way around the tower, leaving only Irileth, Claudia and three men sheltering behind a rock able to continue fighting. Claudia sent another arrow down, this one flying straight into the dragons face. He shook his head, blood droplets flying and flew skywards to finally confront his tormentor from above.

He landed with a thump directly in front of Claudia, staring straight at her, letting off a snarl which sounded suspiciously like a laugh. Almost paralysed with fear, Claudia's muscle memory took hold and pulled another arrow from the quiver, aiming blindly in front of her. The arrow flew true and lodged straight in the dragon's left eye, extinguishing the white light as a fountain of blood spurted out, the outer shell imploding inwards.

The dragon stopped laughing then and screamed, so loud Claudia felt she would fall backwards off the tower. She shut her eyes as warm blood sprayed onto her face and chest.

"**FO KRAH DIIN**" yelled the dragon and the warmth of the blood instantly froze on Claudia's skin, she leapt forwards, though it was too late, as she felt her bones aching and freezing up. Through blind chance she jumped sideways into the stairwell, tumbling over and over into a wall, unable to bring her arms up to protect herself.

The wall at the side of the winding staircase halted her decline; she rolled the rest of the way until she lay amongst the rest of the corpses at the foot of the tower, bruised , rolling down her arms and cheeks as she lay there, unable to move.

At least my nose still works, she thought as the stench of blood and shit entered her brain remorselessly. She turned her mind to the outside and the sounds of battle, hearing the dragon land on the floor, its screams near constant.

We're giving him a run for his money at least, she thought as she focused on moving her arm. After a while she was able to scrape it across the floor and manoeuvre her way to face down and place both hands on the ground, pushing herself upwards.

Why am I doing this? A thought surged through her mind. Might as well lie down and die here as go outside and die there.

She ignored the thoughts and kept struggling. Another five minutes and she was upright, looking for a bow. All the search returned, however, was a sword- I hope the loss of an eye impinges on a dragon's ability to fly, Claudia thought. The sounds of fighting were muted now; both dragon and shouts of the guards had pretty much faded into silence, punctuated only by the occasional panicked call of birds and of course, the shout of dragon and the howling icy winds which followed.

Outside, Claudia saw Irileth before she saw the dragon. She was standing, arm, hanging uselessly on her right, holding herself up with sword in left arm just beyond the entrance to the tower.

The dragon was just beyond her, right wing torn to shreds and flapping in the breeze, his face a bloody mess where his eye had been punctured. Both appeared to have stopped fighting for the moment. Claudia moved quickly past Irileth, ingoring the pain racking her entire body and holding the sword in front of her. "**DIR, JULI" **the dragon said emotionlessly, one eye affixed to her face and snapped his jaws down on where Claudia stood, hoping to crush her between them as he had done with so many soldiers already today.

Claudia, unhindered by mail and light on her feet, dodged aside and skipped inside the reach of the dragon, beneath the head driving her newfound sword upwards with all her might, praying for its sharpness and her strength.

The blade turned aside for a heart stopping moment but caught between scales and plunged through the roof of the mouth and further until the sword was wrenched away from her.

The dragon gave a strangled cry this time and reared up on his hind legs and spread its one good wing before crashing back to earth one final time, Claudia running to escape the flailing form. She took one look to check the dragon remained still and crawled over to the now stricken from of Irileth.

"We did it," the Dunmer smiled. "My Lord is saved..." he eyes rolled back and her head hit the floor. Claudia closed her eyes too, ready to drift into unconsciousness. The pain from her wounds was present but it didn't feel too bad, she knew that as soon as she woke up it'd be excruciating. Something was stopping her from sleeping however. She forced her eyes open and looked across at the dead dragon. It was glowing, a golden radiance twisting over the scales and flying through the air, flying towards her.

She felt a curious sensation, that of an essence flowing into her, golden tendrils floating into her open mouth and around her nose as she lay there, surrounding and wrapping around her body until she was glowing herself. "**FUS**" Claudia said.


	6. Dragonsreach

The first thing she noticed when she awoke was the dull aching pain in the back of her skull. It hinted at what had happened she knew, yet for the life of her could not remember anything. The second thing she noticed was that her wrists were free; she moved them up to look at them in the soft morning light. Thank Kynareth for that, she thought. I don't think I could face a second execution.

A cut coursed down her right hand she saw, in the shape of a trident, yet she couldn't feel it at all, like looking at someone else's hands. There were bruises all along her arms too she saw and she studied them for some time- blue, purple and black they made interesting patterns as she twisted and turned her hands. Her head did feel the pain however, like something was fighting her own impulses to get up and do things, forcing her to go back to sleep. You are not healed yet, it seemed to whisper. Go back to sleep and rest some more.

She gave in and closed her eyes once again.

When she woke up again the pain was back, with a vengeance, her whole body aching, offset by the sharp pains in her right shoulder and hand. Where I smashed into the wall, she thought, remembering the desperate battle with the dragon. Was that really me? She thought. It feels like a different time, a different person.

She opened her eyes and saw a hooded man watching her, sat on a chair at the foot of the bed. Farengar, she thought. The Jarl's wizard.

He smiled as she looked at him. "Right on time," he said cheerfully, his voice muffled, as if he was speaking through a wall of water. "I must commend Arcadia on her calculations, she had it perfectly."

"Whaa..." Claudia tried moving her lips.

"Ah, I would refrain from talking for a little while," Farengar said. "I shall go and get you a drink of water." He ambled off and Claudia sat up to take stock of her situation. She was in a smallish room, though it was no servant's quarters. A shield with the Whiterun Ram's head was placed on the wall to her right and there was a small fire burnt down to embers behind the chair where Farengar had sat.

The mage returned with a glass filled with cold water, which Claudia received gratefully. A _glass_ of water, she thought. I need to kill dragons more often for this level of luxury!

"You have been asleep for three days," Farengar said, having to stoop to get through the door frame. "Balgruuf said he wished to see you as soon as you woke up. And if I may be so bold, there are a few questions about this dragon which I would like..."

"Three days?" Claudia exclaimed, her voice cracking. "I need to get back to Bruma!" she cried. She had already been one day late with the whole business at Helgen. Now with this... "My Uncle will be looking everywhere for me!"

"I'm sure your Uncle will wait. The Jarl will send a message, I'm sure. Are you able to walk?"

Claudia was, though she felt very unsteady on her feet. She was also wearing a kind of white sack, which whilst comfy, she didn't really want to stand in front of the Jarl wearing it.

"The Jarl has provided clothes for you. I shall see you in the throne room." Farengar stalked out of the room. Claudia looked for the promised clothes, seeing a green and white dress by the bed. Simply cut, it fitted beautifully, hugging her form, as if tailored. Well, I was out for three days, she thought. They could've measured me or done whatever they wanted in that time. There was also a silver necklace placed on the bookcase, with a carved dragon head hanging off the front.

Claudia gave an involuntary squeal of excitement, thirteen years old again and put the necklace on. She hadn't had such beautiful clothes or jewellery for what seemed a lifetime. Her Uncle provided her with clothes of course but nothing approaching such finery.

The Jarl seemed to have forgotten to provide shoes with the outfit but Claudia decided to forgive him for that, skipping across the cold stone floor as she made her way through the door all worries and pain momentarily forgotten.

The room she had been in was towards the back end of Dragonsreach, the window had led out to the courtyard where Kind Olaf One-Eye had trapped the dragon Numinex in the incident which gave Dragonsreach its name. She came upon the Jarl and retainers before he reached the throne room. He, stooped over a table with his brother Hrongar and a Legionnaire, clad in his thick steel armour even here, deep within the fortress.

"So Ulfric will definitely attack?" the Jarl was asking as Claudia approached, padding silently in her bare feet.

"It's a matter of when," the Legionnaire replied, straightening up. At that height he had to be a Nord, though his accent placed him on the banks of the Niben in Cyrodil. "He has the men, and victory here would show everyone he has the strength to win the High Kingship. Many still see Whiterun as the heart of Skyrim, not Windhelm or Solitude.

"Aye, if Ulfric got Whiterun, your Empire would find it hard to win the loyalty of many Nords. Many who see him as a pretender now would back him if he proved his force of arms here," Balgruuf stood up straight and eyed the Legionnaire, who stood at exactly the same height. "Us Nords like a strong man- winning the High Kingship by force is often better than inheriting it in many people's eyes."

"Some of those eyes living in your own hold?"

"I'll not deny that there are as many Ulfric sympathisers here as there are those who support the Empire, just be glad that I remember my oath to the Emperor," he stopped and smiled. "And that I don't want to give the Thalmor Skyrim on a damn plate."

The Legionnaire made to reply but stopped when he saw Claudia's approach. He pointed instead. "Your daughter, Jarl."

Jarl Balgruuf span around on his heels. "Dagny! How many..." he began but stopped when he saw Claudia. He laughed and turned back to the Legionnaire. "How old do you think I am, that this is my daughter? This is the Dragonslayer!"

The Legionnaire couldn't hide his surprise any more than Claudia could. "It was Irileth who killed the dragon, Lord," she said.

"That's not what she said," the Jarl countered. "She said you brought it down with a shot to the eye and then stabbed it through the brain."

"Irileth is alive?" Claudia asked, shocked. The Dark Elf had not seemed in a good way when she had last seen her."

"Just about," the Jarl said. "Her arm will never be the same, Farengar says, though she's still alive. It takes a lot to kill my Irileth. Same can't be said for the other men, however, three lie wounded and the rest lie dead," he frowned. "Their sacrifice was not in vain though, many more would have died if the dragon had not been slain and the dragon had attacked Whiterun."

Hrongar nodded behind him. "I have never seen such destruction before," he said, voice rumbling. "And that beast... it took 12 men to carry it into the city."

The Jarl strode over to Claudia and placed a hand on her shoulder. "Dragonslayer, as your reward for the service you have done my city, unasked, selflessly saving hundreds, I would make you my Thane," Claudia's confused expression betrayed her lack of knowledge. "You shall receive property within the city and a tithe of the income from without, as well as your own Housecarl, swron to your service."

Claudia's mouth opened wide in shock. "I already have a house," she said stupidly. "I mean, thank you... Jarl... I cannot possibly deserve this."

"On the contrary girl, I need a new thane and you fit the bill perfectly, the people already love you- you should have heard them cheering as Hrongar carried you in, dragon in tow."

"Surely, I'm not old enough, I... my counsel will be..."

"Enough," the Jarl said sternly, though he smiled afterwards to show no anger was meant. "You shall swear your allegiance to me and then your Housecarl shall swear allegiance to you. Where is Lydia?"

"She is likely training," Hrongar said. "I hope you stay in Whiterun, thane. Lydia is the only one who can give me a decent fight."

Claudia watched him go, muscles rippling in his back as he strode away. Thane? A house? Everything seemed to be moving far too quickly. She wondered what her Uncle would say; he would probably smile and then take her home. "You're not a thane," she heard him say. "You're Itius' daughter and mine to look after, and I don't want you hob-nobbing with those Nordic nobles- just like he wouldn't." She would head to Bruma as soon as this whole business and let him know how it had all been a mistake.

"Kneel, Claudia," the Jarl was saying. She was startled by him using her real name, still after all of this. He pulled his sword out as she knelt. "Repeat after me," he commanded. "I, Claudia Avici, do henceforth swear..."

"I, Claudia Avici, do henceforth swear..."

"That I shall obey and honour all commands that my Lord, Jarl Balgruuf the Greater doth give..."

"That I shall obey and honour all commands that my Lord, Jarl Balgruuf the Greater doth give..."

"And that all of his struggles are mine own, as are his battles."

"And that all of his struggles are mine own, as are his battles."

"This vow I do swear to uphold as long as I live, or until my Lord releases me from his service."

"This vow I do swear to uphold as long as I live, or until my Lord releases me from his service."

Jarl Balgruuf smiled and placed his sword on each of Claudia's shoulders. "Arise thane. I grant you the freedom of Whiterun Hold." Claudia stood up and smiled in return. "Do not feel bound to stay here, though be warned that I can summon you back whenever I wish now," he laughed. "And I would be most offended if you left before the feast in your honour tonight."

A feast, Claudia thought, suddenly feeling as though she hadn't eaten for three days. That would explain the lack of grace I'm displaying she thought. I should be honoured at becoming thane, this is probably the best thing that's ever happened to me, I now have a steady income and a _house_, gods be good, what am I worried about?

She smiled and graciously accepted the invitation to the feast before being introduced to her new Housecarl, who was called Lydia. She was a very tall woman, powerfully built and rather intimidating dressed head to toe in steel armour. She took off the horned helmet as she approached and Claudia relaxed, her round and honest face was brim full of anxiety as her eyes searched through the room for the thane she was to be sworn to. She saw Claudia and skipped past, disregarding her. I shouldn't let that bother me, Claudia thought, feeling slightly aggrieved. I probably wouldn't think I was a thane either.

"Ah, Lydia, time to meet the newest thane in my court," the Jarl said, standing behind Claudia and pushing her forward. Lydia looked down, surprised. "Do you wish to swear your allegiance to this woman, Thane Claudia Dragonslayer?"

Claudia smiled at the big woman who smiled back before remembering herself and reasserting her serious expression. "I do, my Jarl," she replied and knelt before Claudia.

We must look a very odd sight, Claudia thought as Hrongar handed her his sword. A slight Imperial girl, barely able to lift her sword, clad in a summery dress, taking an oath from this powerful warrior, who looks as if she could rip me in half if she wanted to.

The oaths were said and Hrongar took his sword back, much to the relief of Claudia's aching muscles. She really was swaying on her feet now and her head felt so light that it might float off. "Come, my lady," Lydia said, extending her arm. "Let us away to your new home."


	7. Training

AN- Sorry for the wait and the lack of action in the next two chapters: I'm trying to introduce some characters- and well I just generally write at a slow pace XD.

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Claudia awoke from her nap and looked around: just to make sure she was still in Breezeholme. Part of her still expected this all to have been a dream yet when she looked right it was Lydia sat watching her attentively, not her Uncle.

The walk through Whiterun had pushed Claudia to the edge of belief, Lydia half supporting her, head spinning; they made their way past several citizens, all of whom greeted her with smiles and salutations, all seemingly containing the word "Dragonslayer". One of the guardsmen even hastened to remove his helm as a mark of respect.

"I was one of the ones who carried the dragon back," he had said. "The bastard scared me half to death and it wasn't moving. "

She had seen the dragon's head stuck above throne as she left Dragonsreach, next to the bones of Numinex. Olaf the One-Eye reborn in dragon form, they were saying- come to join his foe in Dragonsreach after all this time. The rest of the dragon was to be served tonight at the feast, though Farengar, having already tried some, told her to stick to the more traditional foods that would be on offer.

"Can I get my Lady anything?" Lydia enquired, standing attentively as Claudia swung her legs round off the bed and stood up.

"Call me Claudia, please Lydia," Claudia smiled and stretched. "And, I'm fine for now thank you." She had eaten heartily and had a good wash when she reached her new home. She then looked around to her heart's content, drinking a fair bit of wine as she did so. Her house was not the largest in Whiterun but nor was it the smallest. She had also found a wardrobe full of clothes, all around her size and a box filled with jewellery.

"Where did all this stuff come from?" she had asked Lydia in wonderment as they looked around.

"They belonged to the previous thane," Lydia had replied. "All of their possessions are yours now."

"Are all Whiterun's thane's 17 year old girls?" Claudia had asked laughing

"No, the previous thane was a 40 year old man," Lydia had looked pained. "He was just a little odd."

Claudia chuckled at the memory. "Are you sure I can't get you anything ... Claudia," Lydia asked again face red with embarrassment. "Like, clothes?"

Claudia looked down and saw she was naked and laughed. "I don't plan on going outside anytime soon," she said, walking softly over to Lydia. "It does one good to walk naked in one's own house. You should try it."

Lydia stiffened. "Is that a command, my lady?"

Claudia laughed. "I am only playing the capricious noble, Lydia," she walked over to the wardrobe and searched through it. "Is there any armour around the house that you saw?"

"I think I did," Lydia looked thoughtful. "I shall go and check."

A daughter where the father would have had a son, Claudia thought, as she watched her go. I wonder if she sleeps in her armour.

She wandered back over to the bedside table and went through the jewellery box, finding a necklace, copper, with a ram's head in black on a disc. She put it over her head and admired herself in a mirror, enjoying the way the cold metal felt against her breasts.

I look beautiful, she thought, exultantly happy as she stared at her reflection, seeing a thane looking back, a noble. Her face was smiling, cheeks flushed red with drink, hair tousled, falling in ringlets in front of her shoulders.

"Pride comes before a fall," she heard, spinning around quickly, eyes wide.

"Father?" she asked hesitantly. No, she thought quickly, he is long dead. I saw him die. Her breath shortened and her heart slowed as she sat down on the bed, weak with shock.

Was that a warning? She thought. Does his ghost still watch over me?

In any case the voice was right; she knew who she was acting like. A spoilt little noble, she thought. That's what I am. She took the copper necklace off and threw it back in the box. Her Uncle would be here soon, looking for her and then this whole thing would fade, just as if it was a dream.

She looked longingly into the wardrobe before closing it. There's no point getting attached, she thought. It will all be gone soon enough.

Claudia was dressed in a vest and silk breeches when Lydia returned, her arms full of armour and weapons.

"The leather chest-guard and mail greaves, I think," Claudia said, surveying the choice.

She struggled to work out how to put them on before Lydia helped, before surveying herself in the mirror. The greaves were far too loose and the leather had lost all of its suppleness, refusing to bend. "You will do well to sell all of this, my lady," Lydia advised. "Get yourself fresh forged set of armour fitted, Adrienne will do it for a reasonable fee."

"This will have to do for now," Claudia said. Making plans for the future made her uneasy. "Pass me the lightest sword." The lightest sword was still too heavy for her, though with two hands she could just about swing it. She led the way outside, Lydia following in her clanking plate armour.

There were no fences between the houses out the back of Breezeholme, so Claudia assumed the bit between the back of the house and the wall was hers to do as she willed on. "Right, she said, turning to Lydia. "Teach me how to fight, please."

Lydia opened her mouth in shock. "But, you're the Dragonslayer..."

"I'm good at hunting," Claudia said. "The dragon was like a beast to be hunted, that's how i slew it." She considered for a moment. "That and I was very lucky." She waved the sword around in the air, faux blows on an imaginary target. "I've never fought another person before, not armed."

"Well," Lydia said, unsure of herself. "Try and attack me, I suppose?"

Claudia swung the blade at Lydia, who blocked easily with her shield. She tried again with the same result, and again. Lydia's face, before so flustered, was now focused solely on Claudia's blade.

This time she feinted right and struck left, back-handed, only for the blow to be parried by Lydia's sword instead.

She circled around, lunging, meeting once more with shield. "Move your feet more," was all Lydia said.

Claudia stepped onto her toes and danced around her Housecarl, launching sporadic attacks, occasionally feints, occasionally fierce attacks which lasted several blows.

They kept going, wordlessly until the sun shone low over the plains over the wall to the West. "You are very good," Lydia said, her face glowing with both the effort and the joy of battle as they walked back inside.

"You don't have to lie to me," Claudia replied, breathing heavily, scraping her sword along the floor.

"No," Lydia exclaimed, face flushed with embarrassment again. "I mean it! You fight as well as some of the guards at Dragonsreach. With a new sword and armour, you will be a capable warrior."

Claudia looked uncertain but decided to accept the compliment and smiled. "Well, I suppose it's about time we got ready for the feast," she said, stomach rumbling.

Lydia looked over at the position of the sun beyond the city walls. "Aye, Nord tradition states that food is served at sundown," she shivered as a cold wind blew, a hint of the freezing night air soon to envelope Whiterun. "Best get out of that armour then, my lady." She followed Claudia inside and helped her out of the leather and mail, which had only seemed to get more uncomfortable as their fighting had gone on.

"People actually entrust their lives to garments like this?" Claudia asked in wonderment, staring at the leather chest-guard which looked as if only a few threads held it together in her arms.

"Well the previous owner of this armour didn't live so long; I would think you would be better going to war in your skirts," Claudia laughed and dropped the leather garment to the floor where it promptly split apart. "You need some solid steel armour, my lady- Skyforge Steel if you can convince Eorlund Grey-Mane to make you a suit."

Claudia looked at Lydia's armour; it covered her entire body in a plate of dull metal, grey as the sea during a storm. The metal was crossed with scars where it had turned blades, yet nowhere did it look like cracking. "I couldn't even move in that armour," Claudia laughed. "I think light mail is the protection I might be afforded," she considered for a moment. "Except the protection of running away perhaps."

"I think a full leather suit will do you better," Lydia said studying Claudia's body. "Hardened leather can be as tough as mail if the right craftsman makes it. We'll go and see Adrienne tomorrow."

Claudia laughed. "Oh will we now? I need to set out for Bruma tomorrow: I am already several days late and I didn't even deliver the message I was supposed to give!"

Lydia looked shocked. "But you..." she faltered, eyes wide. "You are a thane of the court now, you can't just leave!"

Claudia twisted her mouth up with frustration. "I never asked for all this," she said, hands raised indicating the house around her. "I just need to get back to Bruma. I will return, if my Uncle allows it." He wouldn't, Claudia knew. If he believed what she told him of the last few days at all, he would scold her for it and then never mention it again, only the cessation of her trips to Skyrim would be her reminder that anything had happened at all.

Lydia still looked shocked. "Are you a noble, in Bruma?" she asked. "That is what you call your thanes isn't it?"

"No I am not," Claudia smiled. "Not by a long shot." Her uncle was a very regular visitor to the castle but that was more often than not against the wishes of the Count.

"Well then, you should remain here!" Lydia all but shouted. "Is this how you repay the Jarl's gifts? Prance about in the fine clothes and eat the fine food... only to abandon your city, your Jarl and your Housecarl?" Her face had gone red and she still gripped the sword in her hand.

Claudia said nothing, though her heart beat fast. Lydia had been roused properly for the first time, she thought. The bashful girl who had trained with her all afternoon had vanished and Claudia suddenly noticed how tall the Housecarl was. This was the Lydia that her enemies saw, shortly before they were sliced into pieces.

The anger receded as quickly as it came however and Lydia dropped the sword with a loud clang, her face turned even redder though now with shame rather than anger. "My lady... I..." she stuttered before simply turning and half walking, half jogging through the door behind her.


	8. Degenerating Into Alcoholism

Claudia changed into some different clothes before she went off in search of her Housecarl. The mail had chafed and she winced as she saw how raw her thighs were. She chose a long flowing red dress with a low back, which although slightly too long for her was just calling out to be worn. She also picked out a simple gold necklace from the jewellery box before finally setting off to find Lydia, stumbling over the bottom of her skirts as she went.

Perhaps I should have remained in my mail and silk shirt, she thought as she called Lydia's name. The fancy clothes had been one of the things which seemed to incense the Nord warrior. She found Lydia sat on a step leading out the back of the house, her head low in her hands, body wracking with sobs.

Claudia took a deep breath and tiptoed up to her, gingerly placing a hand round her shoulder. Lydia looked up, startled. "My Thane," she said, red rimmed eyes wide. "I never... I didn't mean to..."

Claudia smiled. "It's OK, Lydia," she said attempting to pull her towards her in an embrace.

"No, my Lady," Lydia said smiling through her tears. "It isn't OK. I swore an oath to protect and obey my Thane, to treat her life as mine own. And now, after not one day I... I shout at her because she... because you want to go home?" Lydia moved away from Claudia and stood up, brushing the tears off her cheeks. "I am sorry... Claudia. Do you wish me to escort you to the feast now, or would you rather I make preparations for our trip tomorrow?"

"Our trip?"

"Where a Thane goes, her Housecarl follows," Lydia said, smiling again and wiping away the last of her tears.

"No, don't worry about it," Claudia smiled back. "Come to the feast."

They didn't speak as they made their way up to the gates of Dragonsreach, winding around the houses in the last light of the sun, twinkling her crimson farewell as she disappeared beneath the horizon to the West. The delicious smell of roasting meat met them as they neared the gates, causing them both to subconsciously pick up their pace as they entered the great hall.

The hall was alive with activity as they entered, the great table laid out beneath the Jarl's throne surrounded by a thronging mass of people, all making a great deal of noise. Claudia struggled to pick out a single conversation as she wandered through the crowd, prompted by Lydia towards the Jarl's throne. She passed a simpering Redguard who was talking enthusiastically to the Jarl's Steward, Proventus, and heard a loud guffaw as she turned to see Hrongar sharing a joke with a tall, well rounded man dressed in fine furs. Mikael the Bard, lute in hand, stood beside the throne and winked at her as she approached. On the other side stood Irileth, one arm hanging useless by her side, the other on her sword hilt as she looked suspiciously around the room. Her gaze gave away no hint of recognition as Claudia approached. Well, it's not like we slew a dragon together or anything, Claudia thought.

The Jarl was talking to a stocky man with long blonde hair, wearing the cuirass of the Imperial Legion, waving one arms animatedly- a mug filled with an interesting looking liquid in the other.

He cut his conversation short when he saw her. "Idolaf," he said to the blonde man, as he turned to greet Claudia. "May I present to you the Dragonslayer?"

Claudia curtseyed as Idolaf turned her gaze upon her. "Ah yes, I saw you as Hrongar carried you through the gates before that fearsome beast," he bowed. "All of Whiterun owes you a debt, my Lady."

"Indeed it does, though I'm sure she's tired of hearing it by now," the Jarl boomed, laughing. "I intend to honour part of that debt tonight with this feast." He stood up and turned to Irileth. "Is the food ready?" he asked.

"I shall go and see, my Lord," Irileth said, hobbling off.

The Jarl span his attention back around to Claudia. "You shall be sat to my right, at the place of honour, Thane."

Claudia curtseyed again. "And where will Lydia be sat?" the Jarl was friendly enough, but a whole evening of his booming jollity might get a bit much. She glanced round the room at the other Nord men present, all of them seemingly in the process of roaring with laughter or quaffing a large quantity of mead: the prospect of escaping a huge drunken Nord on either side seemed remote if Lydia was elsewhere.

"Why, Lydia will go where all Housecarls stand during feasts, stood two paces behind her Thane, watching out in case some tries to kill you," he grinned broadly. "After all, who knows where that dragon came from; it might have been someone's pet!" He laughed loudly at his jape, as Claudia looked sideways at Lydia.

Irileth saved them from any more witticisms when she returned with the announcement that the food was indeed ready, though the dragon didn't look very appetising.

The Jarl clapped his hands and shouted over the din, calling for silence. "Friends," he called. "People of Whiterun. We are here today to celebrate one of the greatest victories in our city's noble history, the destruction of one of the great and fearsome dragons!" Claudia had been glancing around the room so cried aloud when the Jarl grasped her arm and hoisted it in the air. The dress sleeve rolled all the way down to her shoulder, revealing the slender pale arm beneath, looking almost toy-like in Balgruuf's grasp. "Behold, the Dragonslayer!" he cried, taking no notice of Claudia's discomfort. "Saviour of Whiterun."

A cheer went up and around 100 mugs of mead were tipped back at the toast. Claudia gave what she hoped was a winning smile, though she suspected it might well just look like an embarrassed grin. She looked guiltily over towards Irileth. It was her who killed the dragon, she thought. And she's still up and about with a bad leg and useless arm; it should be a feast for her.

The Dunmer warrior caught her eye and nodded slightly before quickly moving away and taking up her place behind the throne, now moved to the head of the table.

"Bring forth the Dragon!" Balgruuf cried dramatically to a cheer, louder than the one for Claudia.

She made her way to the seat to the right of the throne, and sat down, the great fire behind her warming her exposed back. Opposite sat a very old looking man, at least thirty years past the Jarl, he was wearing robes which were too small for him and his hair was long and straggly. Yet for all that, he still seemed to radiate an aura of power and confidence about him, confidence that he could still take any man around him, even Balgruuf, who seemed to tread warily around the man.

"Vignar," he said warmly. "It has been too long, friend. You no longer come to Dragonsreach as often as you should."

"Aye," Vignar replied simply.

"I have missed your counsel."

Vignar turned towards him. "That you have. Well, I am all ears tonight. Though I fear you won't like what I have to say."

The seat to Claudia's right was empty and remained so as the dragon was brought out, half the length of the table and carried by 9 servants who walked past the tables to general applause. The dragon was heaved over the heads of the guests opposite and landed with a thump on the table, crushing the mugs of mead which weren't hastily moved out of the way.

Within seconds of being set down the beast was set upon by knives from all sides, men and women alike trying to carve the choicest slices of meat from the carcass. In place of the head, which still hung up the stairs to Claudia's left a great wooden head had been crafted in its place, complete with orange fire around the mouth and blood running down from its eye.

"Would my Thane like me to get a piece of the dragon?" Lydia asked, behind her.

Claudia turned and smiled. "No, I was warned off it," she smiled. "Besides, it doesn't do to eat your honourable foe. Imagine if Tiber Septim had eaten Cuhlechain, I doubt we'd think so well on him." Jarl Balgruuf roared with laughter behind her and drained his mug.

"Bring the drinks," he called. "It seems the Dragonslayer can speak after all. Give her some wine so I can hear that wit again!"

Claudia blushed but accepted the wine, as well as taking a good portion of beef. She watched Vignar and Balgruuf as she ate; their conversation was too quiet to hear properly over the racket in the hall, though she thought she heard the word "Ulfric" a lot. She also noticed how pointedly Vignar and the man in Legionnaire armour sat to his left, Idolaf, ignored each other.

"How many people do you think are here?" Claudia asked Lydia.

"One member from each of the prominent families of Whiterun," Lydia replied. "That is, those who live on the upper side of the Wind district, so about 100?"

Claudia nodded and ate a little more. "Why don't you sit down?" she asked, pointing to the empty chair to her right.

Lydia seemed affronted. "It is not the Housecarl's place to eat with their Thane," she replied, straightening up. "I shall watch out against your enemies, my Lady, and eat later, from what remains."

Back to the loyal, ham-brained Housecarl role I see, Claudia thought glumly turning back to her food. I wonder how long before she'll actually have a normal conversation with me?

Her thoughts were interrupted by two tall figures striding through the hallway, dressed fully in armour and with weapons by their sides, cutting a stark contrast with the other dressed-up diners.

"My Jarl, apologies for our lateness," a harsh female voice cut through the air as they approached Jarl Balgruuf. "We are only just returned from Eastmarch this past hour." She turned and nodded at Vignar before facing the Jarl again.

"No worries, my dear Aela," the Jarl said graciously, rising to embrace the woman, who matched him for height. "And Vilkas, good to see you again- your visits are even rarer than Vignar's here."

The man besides Aela nodded and muttered, his voice a low growl. "My duties take me far from Whiterun, I can only apologise, my Jarl."

"No worries Vilkas, if it were not so, the Companions would not have the reputation they do," he looked beyond the couple, towards the door behind them. "Do duties claim Kodlak and Skjor too?"

"Indeed, Jarl," Aela said. "They have heard rumours of a dragon in the Rift, Njada and the Dunmer ride with them."

"Another dragon?" the Jarl frowned. "How..." he started but interrupted himself. "No, this is not the time or the place." He took Aela's arm and led her over to the seat next to Claudia, who felt very small indeed as the two towered over them. She stood up to make up some of the difference.

"Claudia, may I present to you, Aela the Huntress, shield-sister of the Companions." The woman nodded at Claudia as she smiled at her.

Aela had auburn coloured hair, wild and unkempt as it flowed down her back. Her face was covered in brown markings, giving her the look of a wild barbarian queen, further emphasised by the ripped and tattered scaled armour she wore and the flowers and thorns strewn through her hair. Yet, despite all of this it was the eyes which drew the gaze, grey, like Claudia's if a little brighter- they were ringed in yellow and seemed to shine, almost like a dog's. She glanced over at Vilkas, her companion, who was now embracing Hrongar over the table and saw the same eyes. Definitely brother and sister, she thought.

"And to you Aela," the Jarl continued. "I present Claudia Avici, the Dragonslayer."

Claudia didn't think Aela would appreciate a curtsey so instead she gave settled for a wave. "Hello," she said meekly, feeling very foolish.

"Aye, a mighty beast to be felled by one so young," Aela remarked, taking her seat, which Claudia rushed to copy. She realised her heart was beating faster as she did so, so took another gulp of wine, which went straight to her head.

"Lydia is your Housecarl?" Aela asked her.

Claudia swung around, wide-eyed. "What? Oh, yes, Lydia. Yes, she's very good at it, protecting me and stuff," she said smiling at her Housecarl. "Though she refuses to eat with me."

"As she should," Aela replied. "She has been trained well, she also knows not to be drawn into her Thane's conversations at dinner," she smiled, the first time Claudia had seen her do so, her face lighting up, eyes glowing brighter. "You chose the right path, Lydia. You shall be a better Housecarl than you would have been as a Companion." Lydia nodded and a faint smile appeared before she remembered herself and stared off into the distance.

Two more courses came and went, as well as a good deal of wine and mead: by the time pudding was announced, Claudia felt very light headed.

"So," she said, eyes narrowed in what she hoped was an inquisitive expression. "Are you the leader of the Companions?"

"We have no leaders, in the Companions every shield-brother or sister is in charge of themselves," she paused and looked over at a hunk of venison on Claudia's plate. She gestured acceptance and Aela devoured it in one. "There is the Circle," Aela continued. "We are made out of 5 of the most experienced members, who look after the interests of the Companions- contracts and so forth. And then we have Kodlak, the Harbinger, who informs what we do. Advises, if you will."

Claudia nodded, vaguely aware that Aela had probably made that speech many times before. "So, anyone can join?"

Aela nodded. "Yes, though you have to prove you can use a sword, at least," she smiled at Claudia and looked her up and down. "Why, were you thinking of signing up, little one?"

No, Claudia thought. I'd be dead in a week. "Maybe," she said instead, tone defensive.

Aela reached over and grasped her arm, turning it over and inspecting it, causing Claudia to quiver slightly. "You have arms built to hold a bow," she said. "And you are obviously no craven," she said, pointing over at the remainder of the dragon carcass.

"I can hunt well with a bow," Claudia said, eyes wide as she looked into Aela's face, keenly aware that her hand was still on hers.

"There is no shame in using a bow," Aela said smiling. "Whatever my ice brained shield-brother Farkas might say." She considered Claudia once again. "Yes, I think that maybe one day you and I shall hunt together." Claudia's head drifted sideways as she tried to deliver a serious looking expression. Aela laughed, a light tinkling sound which denied her gruff voice and she let go of Claudia's hand. "Though I think we need to increase your tolerance levels for when you do," Aela sniffed. "You smell of grapes and blood... and mouse."

"Mouse?" Claudia asked, beyond confused at where the conversation was going now.

"You smell like a mouse," Aela reiterated. She didn't look it but Claudia suspected that she was rather drunk as well. "When you no longer smell like prey you can join the Companions," she said emphatically.

"I'll drink to that," Claudia said.

Aela laughed again. "You do that, little mouse."

The night wore on and Claudia's conversation with Aela degenerated further and further until Claudia suddenly sat up and retched, eyes open, though she somehow avoided the ignominy of throwing up on the Jarl's table during her first day as thane.

"I think it's time our little mouse went home," Aela said to no one in particular. The Jarl had abandoned his honoured guests and was talking avidly to a serving girl whilst many of the other guests had left, leaving only empty plates, half a dragon carcass and a few pools of vomit.

Claudia tried to stand but stumbled, caught by arms behind her. "Lydia!" she cried, turning and hugging her saviour.

For the second time that day, Claudia was supported by Lydia all the way down to Breezeholme from Dragonsreach. I better not make a habit of this, she thought with part of her mind: the other part only seemed to be able to think about Aela.

Claudia lay awake in bed, staring at the dark ceiling, her eyes slowly adjusting as thoughts darted across her mind, flashing brightly and disappearing just as quickly into the drunken haze.

I should stay here in Whiterun, she thought. My Uncle doesn't know, he'll never find me.

She rolled over and stared across at the wardrobe. Those clothes are beautiful; I wonder what I'll wear tomorrow. She giggled to herself. I wonder which clothes Aela would like to see me in.

She sat up in bed and suddenly realised she was still dressed, struggling to remove the dress for a while before giving up, one arm out of a sleeve. I wonder if Ulfric is married, the thought. Could a giant kill a dragon? How many Thalmor did General Tullius kill in the Great War I wonder?

Slowly one thought crept through her mind and lodged there, however. What happened after I killed that dragon, she thought as she lay back down again, all the better to engage her brain. I absorbed some knowledge when that light flowed into me; I somehow learnt how to say that word.

"**FUS**" she whispered.

The air in front of her moved and she felt the sleeve of her dress ripple as if in a breeze. She looked over, no door or window was open.

"**FUS**" she said slightly louder, towards the door. A gust swept through the room this time, unmistakably emanating from Claudia's mouth.

She looked around, excitedly, before grabbing a blanket and holding it in front of her.

"**FUS**" she said once more, quietly, yet her voice resonated around the room, echoing off the walls. She gasped as the blanket was torn from her grasp and flew over to the door before laying back.

So what an earth does fusmean? she thought as sleep finally washed over her.


	9. Council of Balgruuf

**Sorry it's been a while, and also with the shenanigans of uploading the wrong chapter last time.**

**This chapter's a bit Council of Elrondish- be warned! :D**

Claudia did not set out for Bruma when she woke up the next day as planned. Instead she went with Lydia and explored the town, using her newfound wealth to buy herself a new suit of armour and a sword from Warmaiden's, the blacksmith on the edge of town. The proprietor, a huge man, rather fittingly called Ulfberth War-Bear had struggled to understand why she would want anything other than steel armour but eventually, with the intercession of his Imperial wife, Adrianne, Claudia came out clad in hardened leather armour, with mail greaves forged with moonstone and quicksilver.

The rest of the day, Lydia trained with her, helping Claudia get used to her new armour and feel the balance of the new sword, short and curved, bought from a Redguard merchant recently according to Adrienne. Lydia had pushed her much harder than she had before, launching attacks herself which Claudia had to try and parry.

The night came and went, Claudia still pushing all thoughts of Bruma and her uncle from her mind as she slept, snuggled in her sown quilt.

The cold returned to Whiterun with a vengeance the next day and a frost was clear on the ground as Claudia rose at dawn. The Jarl sent a man down summoning her to Dragonsreach as soon, so she ventured into the cold, dressed from head to toe in furs, her breath highlighted white in the crisp air.

She entered Dragonsreach at something approaching a run, moving her hair from where it had blown in front of her eyes to see that a council of sorts had already begun. The Jarl sat at the head of a small table, set up before his throne, with his brother Hrongar to his right, in full mail and a Greatsword rested across his lap. The Steward, Proventus sat to Hrongar's right eyeing him nervously and twitching every time he moved. Irileth sat to the Jarl's left, though slumped might be a better term for it. Her face was drained and grey, matching her hair which seemed to have changed shade overnight. She looks about twenty years older than when I first saw her, Claudia thought as she approached.

All eyes looked up as she sat down opposite the Jarl, well all except Irileth's, who seemed lost in a dream, eyes flicking to and fro, though her hand never left the sword hilt by her side. Claudia was introduced to the two men on either side of her, a bald Redguard, dressed in fine red and gold velvets named Nazeem and Idolaf Battle-Born, the blonde man Claudia had seen at the feast.

Proventus had a pile of papers before him and seemed to be availing the Jarl of the situation throughout Skyrim. Reports of dragon sightings were rife throughout the Rift, he informed them, as well as over the mountains to the South and whilst no attacks had been made on any towns or houses, charred remains had been found along the roads to both Cyrodil and Riften.

More guards were assigned to Riverwood and Rorikstead, the exposed villages, as well as a section of the Jarl's household soldiers to the protection of merchants along the routes to the South and East.

"Excuse me, my Lord, but if we commit so many men away from Whiterun we are near defenceless should Ulfric decide to attack," Proventus said, his head inclined towards the Jarl. "And if what General Tullius writes is true..."

"Gah, damn them both!" the Jarl exclaimed. "Ulfric and the General! They were both at Helgen were they not? Surely they see the need to come to some arrangement while we stop these beasts!"

Proventus nodded. "Should I send some emissaries to Ulfric, my Jarl?"

"No," Hrongar's voice rumbled. "Ulfric will know we are weak, it will make him more like to attack than not."

"If you will just let the Legion station some troops here..." Idolaf began.

"I've told you already Idolaf," the Jarl turned to look at the Legionnaire. "I shall not be seen as some cat's paw of the Legion!" He turned angrily around. "We have enough men to hold against Ulfric's _Stormcloaks_," he said the name with disdain. "Let the merchants know that they shall have their convoys Nazeem."

"As you wish, my sire," the Redguard bowed deeply as he stood and wandered towards the gates.

Why is the Jarl so against the stationing of Imperial troops? Claudia thought as she sat there, in between wondering why on earth she had been called to the council. He is loyal to the Empire, surely everyone already knows this, yet his honour means that he can't be seen pleading for help?

"So," the Jarl turned to Hrongar. "What news of Ulfric? Has he managed to get back safely to Windhelm after all?"

"Yes," Hrongar tensed his fists. "The men I sent after he escaped Helgen are dead- Ulfric got back two days ago, though I only got news of it this morning. It appears he already sent men towards us; they're pushing through Laintar Dale already, unopposed except for the bandits they insist on killing. They'll be at Valtheim Towers by Loredas."

Jarl Balgruuf frowned at the news. The Empire will let Whiterun fall if Balgruuf refuses help, but it won't make things any easier, Claudia thought. Well I'm on the council for a reason, might as well say something. She opened her mouth but was cut off as the Jarl stood. "Hrongar, take 200 men and capture the towers before Ulfric gets there. Hold him as long as you can."

Hrongar's face lit up. "Yes, brother. I shall bring you back Ulfric's head on a pike." He stood, raised a hand to his chest and strode out.

The table around which they sat was sparsely populated now and finally the Jarl turned to face Claudia. "Hrongar will hold them for long enough I hope," the Jarl said. "We need to focus on the real trouble here. High Kings come and High Kings go but the dragons, they've been dead for hundreds of years, thousands!" He shook his head as if still disbelieving the reappearance was real. "This is the biggest threat to the people of Skyrim since The Great War; we need to find out how to beat them, as soon as possible," he moved so as to cast his gaze at Irileth as well as Claudia. "So, how do you kill a dragon?"

Claudia hesitated and waited for Irileth to speak as Balgruuf steepled his fingers: no word was forthcoming from the taciturn Dark Elf so Claudia cleared her throat. "Well, me and Irileth... and all the men who died," her mind filled with images of the torn and broken bodies around the watchtower for the first time since she ahd awoken, how could I have forgotten them so easily? The thought, filled with self-disgust flashed through her mind.

"The... men who died," she repeated. "We slew him with arrows and swords and strength, just as any mortal beast. But, the dragon still slew many and... well, compared to the creature at Helgen this one was but small."

"Small?" the Jarl exclaimed, his gaze flicking up to the head hung up above him on the wall.

"Yes, my Jarl," Claudia said, bringing to mind the huge black creature which had ripped into Helgen, seeing clearly the massive black head smashing clean through a brick wall. "About half the size, if not less. The dragon which attacked Helgen, there were around a hundred Legionnaires there and the dragon didn't even seem to take a wound."

"Good god," the Jarl said, realisation dawning on his face. "If such a beast were to attack Whiterun..." he left the thought unsaid.

"We will have only a skeleton force here!" Proventus exclaimed rubbing his hands together nervously. "With the men off with the merchants, in Riverwood and Rorikstead, we will have only around 500 men at most to hold off the dragon!"

The Jarl smashed the table in frustration. "There is no way out of this!" he exclaimed. "We're going to have to sacrifice the city if the great black dragon comes here. Let the word be sent out that at any sight of a dragon the people are to abandon their houses and flee to Dragonsreach."

"Yes, my Lord," Proventus said, making a note on a fresh piece of parchment.

The Jarl raised his eyes to the ceiling as the quill scratched, looking utterly defeated. Idolaf looked about ready to fruitlessly suggest the Legion troops again, Claudia could see so she spoke up instead. "My Jarl, the Dragons may not be easily defeated by strength alone," she began. "But perhaps there is another way- they are after all creatures of magic. Perhaps there is something in the archives?"

"Yes, yes, the dragons were killed once, why not again?" the Jarl said eagerly seizing on her words. "Irileth, go and fetch me Farengar, please." The Housecarl jerked her head up out of her trance and shuffled off down the stairs towards the Court Mage's workroom.

Idolaf was not so easy to put off however. "Jarl, if you will not let the Legion station troops in Whiterun, then at least let me send word to the General about sending men to reinforce Valtheim."

The Jarl looked at him with an irritated expression, annoyed at the interruption to his exuberance with Claudia's idea. He thought for a moment before nodding. "Yes, that would be a good plan Idolaf. Send word after you have heard what Farengar has to say. I want to let the General to know how we are combating the dragons as well."

Farengar approached with Irileth, stalking the hallway like a spectre, hooded as always. "Jarl?" he asked simply.

"Farengar, I know you are a keen student on the lore of the dragons..."

"Why?" the mage cut in, eyes lighting up. "Has another dragon been seen?"

"No," the Jarl answered curtly. "I need you to tell me all that you know concerning the dragons, and most importantly: how they were killed back before the First Era."

"Ah," said Farengar, moistening his lips. "I fear I won't be able to answer your question as succinctly as you would like, my jarl..."

"Just do it."

"As you wish, as you wish," the mage bowed. "Well, let's see... hmm, where to begin? The dragons are a mystery, even in the Second Era they were being dismissed as mere myths- giant lizards or merely an invention of bards, yet there is enough evidence to suggest that they not only lived, throughout Tamriel, though mainly in Skyr...

"We know they exist," the Jarl said bluntly.

"Ah yes, of course of course, I had the honour of examining the corpse of one, I learned much but alas not how to kill them." Claudia thought he looked surprisingly happy about this. "But yes, as I was saying, Dragons didn't just live; they ruled large areas, often mountain peaks, enslaving the humans, or eating them- depending on which account you believe," he laughed. "There were certainly huge buildings dedicated to them atop mountains, temples I should think. You see, the first dragon, ruler of all, the World-Eater, is said to be descended from Akatosh, or part of him perhaps, the commentaries are unclear."

"Alduin," Idolaf said, his tone fearful.

"Indeed, that is the World-Eater's name. His coming precedes the end of the world it is said," Farengar said cheerfully.

"Are there any descriptions of Alduin?" Claudia asked quietly.

"Hmm, there are a few. It is said he was just like a normal dragon, only far bigger and more powerful than any other. Oh, and he was jet black, with glowing red eyes."

Claudia and the Jarl exchanged a look. "Well, Alduin has died before," the Jarl said matter-of-factly. "Before he managed to eat the world anyhow." He sighed and turned back to Farengar. "None of this gets us any closer to how we kill the things!"

"I was getting there," Farengar smiled. "The study of dragons is so fascinating it often leads off into other tangents. Right, let's see: dragon temples... ah yes. I have been meaning to hire some mercenaries to go and explore a dragon temple right here in Whiterun Hold, but what with having to buy all of my own alchemy ingredients and pay for all that damage to the ceiling..." The Jarl gave him a look and Farengar started again.

"Bleak Falls Barrow is the name of the place, built into the mountain next to Riverwood... I believe it was in there that the last Dragon worshippers holed out for centuries. There will be information in there about the fall of Alduin and the other dragons, I'm sure of it. My sources also tell me that the Dragonstone lays within too, giving a map of all the dragon burial sites throughout Skyrim."

The Jarl nodded. "I know Bleak Falls Barrow," he said. "An evil place." Claudia thought back, remembering what Hadvar had said about how the place had given him nightmares as a child. From below it looked as if the black bones of the mountain had split the rock and rent it open, exposing its beating heart.

"There will be many Draugr stalking the halls," Farengar said worriedly, causing Proventus to scoff. "What, you think I joke, Proventus? Necromancy is one of the oldest forms of magic- it was even stronger back in the days of the dragon priests."

"A myth," Proventus laughed. "What is dead is dead. It doesn't walk around crypts for 5000 years."

"I could cast you down right now, Imperial and raise you up to be my puppet; would that be proof enough for you?" Claudia noticed a dark red light twinkling in the mages eye.

"There shall be no need for that," the Jarl said loudly. "Proventus, would you escort Idolaf to the stables so he may send his message to General Tullius," he ushered the Steward out of the hall. "And spread the word: If a dragon attacks seek refuge in the fortress!" he called after him.

To Farengar he said: "Take three members of the Companions on your expedition, that should be more than enough, tell them I'll cover any gold they want," Farengar looked placated. "And you are to take Thane Atius here with you," Claudia started, her thoughts had already been moving onto what she was going to break her fast with. "I assume she has recovered from her injuries," the Jarl continued. "Along with Lydia, that will be two extra blades to fight beside you in case of Draugr attack. Besides, if you die Farengar, I need someone to report the knowledge back to me."

Farengar frowned but didn't say anything about Claudia's appointment. "I shall need time to prepare," he said instead.

"Very well, Claudia, go and recruit some Companions for your venture and prepare yourself. I expect you both to leave before noon," the Jarl commanded in a tone which suggested the council meeting was finished.

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Claudia approached the great hall of Jorvasskr with some trepidation, glad for Lydia at her back. The hour was well past 7 though it still seemed dark, the grey clouds overhead blocking out the sun's rays. Despite the gloom, the sounds of steel clashing echoed from behind the hall along with the occasional cry of victory or anguish.

"Should I knock?" Claudia asked Lydia. The whole idea of her hiring Companions for an expedition seemed ludicrous; she was a 17 year old orphan, not some great Lord who wanted to smash an Orc stronghold or who desired the head of a frost troll on her wall.

"Probably best knock loudly," Lydia replied. She wore no furs, claiming that her armour and her Nord blood was enough to keep the cold at bay. "You should travel to Winterhold during Evening Star," she had laughed as Claudia complained about the cold and covered herself in furs. "Then you will know cold, my Lady."

Lydia seemed to be in a good mood today, Claudia thought as her teeth chattered waiting for the door to open. Hopefully she doesn't remember she's an emotionless Housecarl for a while.

The door finally creaked open and she was created by a familiar face, that of Torvar, the drunkard from the Bannered Mare. His face showed no recognition however. "What the fuck do you want?" he mumbled wearing a very pained expression.

"I wish to hire three Companions," Claudia said with as authoritative a tone as she could mange. "For an expedition to retrieve the Dragonstone from Bleak Falls Barrow."

"You?" Torvar said disbelievingly, wrinkling his nose.

"I have a guarantee from the Jarl on your payment," she said brandishing a piece of paper. She _had_ written the note herself but it had been dictated by the Jarl, and his wobbly signature was present on the bottom.

Torvar gave the paper a frightened look before opening the door wide and ushering them in. Claudia breathed in the warm air of the hall deeply, smelling a delightful combination of roasting meats and smoke, though it was tempered slightly by the stench emanating off Torvar, which seemed to be an interesting mixture of alcohol and urine. "You'll want to speak to Vilkas," he said, not even looking at the proffered paper. "He's the one with the brains around here." He stumbled slightly as he made his way through the hall motioning for her to follow.

Jorrvaskr seemed to basically be a giant tavern, set up with a longtable running down the middle and benches on either side. Whilst the rest of the floor was clear, the walls were covered, shields, axes, swords and maces, not to mention the numerous animal skulls including, in pride of place, a mammoth, tusks shining and magnificent in the firelight.

Torvar led her down one end of the hall where steps descended down to the living quarters. Through a door, she saw several beds occupied in a large, unfurnished room, seemingly holding all the newest recruits. They continued on down a corridor underneath the main hall until they reached a series of private bedrooms which Claudia assumed belonged to the Circle.

Vilkas was inside the last of the bedrooms, a Spartan room containing bed and a desk. One of his walls made out of solid stone. It's like Dragonsreach, she thought. All the lower levels are hewn out of the rock below.

It was at the desk which Vilkas sat, though he still came to near the same height as Claudia when she stood next to him. "Ah, the Dragonslayer," he said, his tone not impressed. "Have you come to join the Companions little one?" he laughed.

"No," Claudia proffered the paper, feeling herself turning red.

"A pity," Vilkas smiled, showing fierce looking teeth as he did so. "I had thought to see the Dragonslayer in action." He undid the Jarl's seal and his eyes skimmed the paper. "Although it seems my wish may be granted," his face lost its smile. "Bleak Falls Barrow, does the Jarl know what dwells in there?" Claudia made to answer but he cut her off. "No matter, the Jarl is paying good gold, we can deal with it."

He stood and handed the letter back to Claudia. "We leave as soon as possible," she said.

He turned and regarded her coldly. "Don't give me orders, whelp," he said. "We shall go when we are ready. Now go run along like a good girl to the practice yard and tell Aela what we're doing." Claudia felt Lydia tense beside her in anger so she turned quickly and left the room.

Torvar seemed to have collapsed in the corridor so they made their way back to the hall together. "You shouldn't let him speak to you like that," Lydia said softly as they made their way past sleeping recruits. "He tries to make you feel small. If you let him then he only picks on you more."

"Do you know him?" Claudia asked, surprised.

"I joined the Companions four summers ago," Lydia said as they made their way up the stairs. "Vilkas was the same to every new recruit. He'd bully them until they proved themselves or died."

"How come you left?" Claudia asked.

"A Companion's life was not for me," Lydia replied, eyes fixed ahead. "Where they find honour, I feel like a mercenary. As a Housecarl I pledge my loyalty to my Thane above all else," she stopped as they opened the door into the great hall and looked at Claudia smiling. "I think there's honour in that."

The Great Hall was eerily empty but they followed the sounds of the clashing swords through a smaller door out to the back. There they were confronted by four figures paired into twos sparring with each other. Claudia watched as they went, blades flashing quickly and ringing out loudly and true, thinking back to her own slow and ponderous sparring sessions with Lydia.

Claudia's heart jolted slightly as she saw Aela across the yard, her auburn hair flowing behind her as she moved. She was fighting with another Nord woman, deflecting her furious attacks and parrying every so often to great effect. Two men on the other side of the yard seemed to be swinging at each other with battle axes

"Don't worry, they're blunted," Lydia said, watching Claudia's concerned look.

"It'd still bloody hurt if it took you in the face!" Claudia replied.

Aela had seen her and waved, almost having her arm taken off by her exuberant opponent. She said something and the two of them wandered over. "Hello there, little mouse," Aela smiled, sheathing her blade. "May I introduce you to Ria, our newest recruit."

Claudia looked at the girl, who was smiling, red faced and panting with exertion. "Hello," she said, beaming. "Little mouse is a very odd name!"

Claudia found herself smiling back. "My real name is Claudia," she replied. "Aela called me Little Mouse, for reasons I can't quite understand."

"Because you smell like a mouse," Aela said sniffing. "Just like Ria smells like a puppy," she darted to the side and tickled the girl under her chin causing the girl to leap in the air and giggle excitedly. "She acts like one too."

Claudia smiled again, "Vilkas said to tell you that you are... I mean we are going on an expedition."

"An expedition? We hunt together earlier than I thought, little mouse," Aela replied smiling, reaching forward and grasping Claudia's arm.

"Yes erm, we are going... we are going to..." Claudia stuttered, blood rushing all over her body.

"To Bleak Falls Barrow, we need to retrieve an ancient stone for the Jarl. There's enough money to hire three companions," Lydia stepped in.

Aela stopped laughing. "Bleak Falls Barrow?" she said, her harsh voice giving the name more menace than usual. "That is one crypt in Skyrim I haven't explored," she said face picking up again. "Will be fun to hunt in there will it not, Little Mouse?"

"I can't say I've been in any crypts before," Claudia said. "What's so bad about Bleak Falls Barrow?"

"Do you not know?" Ria said, eyes wide. "It's rumoured that there's an ancient evil which made its home there. No one who goes in comes out alive."

"Every tomb in Skyrim has an ancient evil inside it, girl," a voice came from behind Claudia. She spun around and saw Vilkas striding towards them, clad in dark steel mail, which glinted green in the light.

"Are we leaving so soon, Vilkas?" Aela asked, her playful manner forgotten as she turned to face him.

"Ask the Dragonslayer," he said.

"We need to meet Farengar at the Bannered Mare before noon," Claudia replied.

"Farengar!" Vilkas hissed. "That craven mage is bad news."

"Aye, but the Bannered Mare is good news, Vilkas," Aela said lightly. "And if we get there early we can have a drink of mead before we set out," she smiled. "Who else shall come, Vilkas? Is Farkas alive to the world?"

Vilkas laughed, his sour features lighting up as he did so. "My brother was with that new Redguard recruit when I saw last saw him... at about 3 O'clock," his gaze went to Ria. "He should stay anyhow; we need at least one member of the Circle within Jorrvaskr. Take his girl instead, she can prove herself." His look said the rest, prove herself, or die, just as Lydia said, Claudia thought.

Ria gave a look, part fear, part elation. "As you say brother," Aela said. "Let us away."


	10. Ancient Eeeevil

**Thankyou to the reviewers. Very much appreciated! :D**

The rain was slowly turning to snow as they climbed. Claudia's hair had been soaked by a downpour just outside Riverwood and now started to freeze in the cold air. The wind snapped at her exposed face, feeling like it was chiselling holes in her cheeks. She looked up and saw Lydia a few paces ahead of her, forcing herself to pick up the pace, striding over the slippery rocks.

Aela led the way with Vilkas close behind, both as surefooted as if they had four legs instead of two, Vilkas managing to leap from rock to rock despite his steel armour and heavy pack on his back. Next came Farengar who strode through the weather as if he were walking through the courtyard in Dragonsreach. His cloak isn't even wet, Claudia thought bitterly. She even fancied she saw steam rising from his shoulder as a snowflake hit him. Ria came behind him; her mail was seriously hampering her, as it was Lydia and the two of them trudged up the hill with their heads down and panting, bags slung low over their shoulders.

Claudia looked up trying to see the position of the sun. It was still quite high above the Western skyline she thought thankfully, seeing a faint glow behind the grey clouds for a short time before once again the path turned 180 degrees and the snow blissfully blew into her back for a while.

They had made good time to Riverwood, leaving Whiterun well before noon, Farengar having completed his mysterious preparations earlier than he had thought. Claudia had meant to seek out Alvor and Sigrid but Vilkas had insisted they pushed on as soon as possible. "Bleak Falls Barrow is much further away than it looks, whelp" he had said to her as she looked up at the ruin from the village, where it seemed no distance at all.

He was right, she thought despondently. They had lost sight of the Barrow as soon as the snow started coming down but glances downwards showed a dispiritingly close valley floor.

Claudia's thoughts were ended abruptly when she walked into the back of Lydia, almost falling flat on her back as a result. Everyone in front had stopped and Aela shushed her as she let out a shocked cry. "There's someone ahead," she said, turning her head to indicate, red hair flicking forward. "They haven't seen us coming."

Vilkas was sniffing the air hungrily. "Six," he said after a moment, motioning forward, where just for a second Claudia could make out the silhouette of a stone tower.

Farengar had his eyes closed, muttering under his breath. "There are 5," he said suddenly. "One is recently dead."

"Who are they?" Ria asked anxiously.

"Outlaws, bandits," Vilkas said contemptuously. "Whatever they are, they'll be desperate and will attack us for the food we're carrying if nothing else." He looked at Aela

She nodded and smiled. "And they'll be dead soon," she dropped her small pack and bow and set off.

"Wait here if you don't want to get killed," Vilkas said to the others, his voice gruff, almost a snarl as he followed his shield-sister.

The others did as he bid: Ria, Lydia and Claudia exchanging confused looks while Farengar smiled to himself, his eyes still closed.

Aela and Vilkas returned quickly, though both were spattered in blood and Aela was carrying a new bow and quiver of arrows. "I found this, Little Mouse," she said, proffering it to Claudia. "You have the smell of a good archer." She smiled sweetly at Claudia, revealing teeth stained red.

Claudia forced a smile back and took the bow and arrow. "There may be more ahead," Vilkas said. "Keep a lookout."

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The weather was truly awful as they reached the ruin itself, the cloud so low that it was like walking through a wall of snow. They climbed up a series of rough steps carved into the stone, having to guess where the next one might be through the thick carpet of white, before finally reaching a ledge jutting out over the valley below.

"According to my maps, the entrance is just to the right here!" Farengar shouted. "It may be hidden under some snow."

It quickly became obvious where he meant, the doors had been ripped off in some past age, with only a huge gaping hole left in the side of the mountain. Aela went first, sword drawn and they followed slowly, one by one, buffeted by the wind.

The cave they emerged into was a sea of tranquillity by comparison; the only noise was the howling wind outside and the heavy breathing of the company. "Let's take a breather for ten minutes," Vilkas said and sat down, pulling a piece of salted pork from his pack.

Claudia stayed standing, moving the hair out of her eyes and moving about trying to get warm. Aela came over to her, hair falling in all directions though she didn't seem too bothered by it. "Warmer air further in," she said and led Claudia a little way from the group.

She looked back, seeing Lydia and Ria laid down flat on the floor from exhaustion, whilst Farengar shuffled back towards the entrance, inspecting the stonework. "Hmm... Third Era Stonework, but Second Era design..." Claudia heard him say to himself.

"Not used to the cold, little mouse?" Aela asked quietly as Claudia's teeth chattered.

"It gets this cold in Bruma sometimes," she said. "But I don't think I'll ever get used to it. I'm an Imperial, we're built for warmer weather!" I'm only 30 miles from Bruma here, she thought for a second. 30 miles from home, from my Uncle. She quickly banished the thought from her mind and refocused on Aela, who was smiling at her reasoning.

"You'll get used to it one day," Aela said confidently. "Become a real maiden of the snow." She wiped the icicles off the top of Claudia's head. "Do you like the bow?"

Claudia pulled it from beneath her pack and looked at it, smaller than Aela's own, yet finely made. The string was damp but it looked in good working order. "This is Imperial make," she said.

"The bandit was a deserter, or he killed a legionnaire," Aela said. "Either way, it's yours now, let me see you draw it." Claudia held out the bow and pulled the string back as far as she could. "Good," Aela complimented. "You are stronger than you look. Not too far; you need accuracy on your shot too, as well as power. Now, put an arrow to the string"

The string kept getting caught in her furs as she tried to reach for an arrow, so Claudia unwrapped herself until she stood in her armour, bow cocked and an arrow ready to fly. She no longer felt the cold as she had: her shivering ceased and she held the bow steady.

"Turn and face into the cave," Aela said her voice low, crouching down so they were the same height, adjusting Claudia's hold on the bow until she was satisfied. In the faint light of the cave Aela's auburn hair seemed to glow brighter than ever, trailing down all the way to the floor, brushing against Claudia's leg on the way down. Her stature was lithe, even next to Claudia's own.

She has a better figure than me she thought, tracing the lines of Aela's body with her eyes. It curves at just the right spots. Her gaze lingered on Aela's breasts for a moment, the shape clear even through her armour.

She jerked away suddenly, realising what she was doing and almost let fly with the arrow.

"Careful, little mouse," Aela said, laughing, her voice still quiet- and deep, almost hypnotic. "We don't want to wake him up now, do we?"

Claudia looked back to Aela and into the cave, confused. What, in the name of Talos was she talking about?

Then she saw him, her eyes adjusting to the gloom. A man was sat, laid against the rock, obviously asleep about 100 yards ahead of them. She gasped. "How long has he been here?" she exclaimed, rather stupidly.

Aela didn't reply but instead put one arm around Claudia's waist and the other on her left arm, holding the bow.

"B-but I can't shoot him!" Claudia said, staring at Aela in horror.

"Yes you can," Aela whispered in her ear. "He is the prey, and you are the huntress."

Claudia shivered despite herself, feeling Aela's warm breath on her and feeling her body pressed right against hers. "He's defenceless," she said, protesting, even as she trained the bow on the man.

"He is weak," Aela replied. "In the other position he would not hesitate to kill or rape you."

"He might not be a bandit!" Claudia whispered back. "Maybe just a lost man seeking shelter in the storm."

Aela laughed. "Not all men are bandits, but all men are rapists and murderers given the chance," she said. "And all prey is put in our path to be taken."

Claudia released the bow string before she even realised what she was doing. She gave a gasp of shock as the arrow flew away from her and buried itself through the man's chest with a solid thump. Her heart flew up into her mouth, but the man merely let out a grunt and tipped sideways against the wall. She breathed in, suddenly aware that she had been holding her breath, an odd feeling of satisfaction and pleasure surging through her body.

"Good mouse," Aela said, still whispering. She stood up and walked over to the dead man, ripping the arrow out from his chest, giving it back to Claudia, still dripping with blood. "He wasn't even wearing any armour," she laughed. "Foolish prey."

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The rest of the company didn't even notice the dead man as they moved through the cave, descending deeper, until the air was warm and silent. Claudia averted her eyes too, though she fancied she could smell the rot already setting in. Don't be silly, she told herself. Keep focused and don't dwell on it, we've still got that ancient evil to get past, then you can mope.

The cave narrowed as they moved further in, becoming a thin path, wide enough only for single file. Farengar led the way, a faint light radiating off him, closely followed by Vilkas. Then came Ria, followed by Claudia and Lydia with Aela bringing up the rear, holding a torch and glancing behind her every few seconds.

After what seemed like hours, they came to a wooden staircase which spiralled down below them, the wood was rotten, though the walls were smooth. "Someone has excavated the ruin before," Vilkas said, testing the strength of the wood.

"Aye," Farengar replied. "About 30 years ago some treasure hunters mined down to where they thought the main chamber was. It is our best chance to follow their steps."

Claudia moved gingerly down the steps, wincing every time she stepped on the wood and cringing harder every time she saw Ria ahead of her take a half jump out into the darkness, missing a particularly unsafe looking step. They reached the bottom without incident however, though a nest of rats awaited them, large and wild, nipping at Vilkas' feet before he killed two with his blade and the rest fled.

"What on earth do they eat down here?" Farengar asked in wonder.

"Stupid people like us," replied Vilkas gloomily.

"Rats can survive anywhere," Claudia said. "There were hundreds living in the sewers in the Imperial City."

"I see one of them escaped," Vilkas replied, sending Claudia into red faced silence once again. First a mouse and now rats, she thought. What is it with the Companions and comparing me to rodents?

They set out again, still deeper into the mountain side, the air practically warm now. There was also a hint of past carvings along the walls as they walked, worn images of people and animals staring down, as if questioning who dared to disturb this ancient and forgotten place.

Claudia looked around as they walked, letting the sounds of the footsteps ahead guide her way. The tunnel was opening up again as they went and soon they were in something resembling a hall, filled with rubble and pillars, stretching out left and white as far as Claudia could see. Vilkas stopped again, sniffing the air. More people? Claudia thought incredulously.

Aela moved up quickly to her Shield-Brother, drawing her sword as she did so. "No," he replied. "There are only two of them, let us see what they are doing down here."

They moved forward warily, walking as quietly as possible, Lydia and Ria in their clanking armour hanging back so as not give them away. Claudia kept close to Aela, following her towards the wall at the far end of the great hall. "We should get out now, cut our losses," she heard a female voice imploring suddenly from behind a great pillar to her right. "You know I'm right Harknir."

"Arvel is still down there," a male voice replied. "Do you really want to give up on all that treasure he kept going on about?"

"I really don't see why he had to go rushing off..."

Vilkas looked behind him, seeing the rest of the company with him and stepped around the pillar, sword in hand. Claudia heard a very loud shout, followed by the sound of steel being drawn.

"Now, now, let's not be silly," Vilkas said calmly as Aela and Ria ran to his side, weapons drawn. "Drop your weapons and no one need get hurt."

The woman, who was dressed only in rags threw down her bow hurriedly but the man, Harknir, broad shouldered and dressed in mail kept his sword raised. "Who are you?" he demanded. "What are you doing here?"

"He said, put your weapons down," Aela growled menacingly and walked forward, sword and teeth bared.

"You can't have any of the trea..." he began before Aela took a stride forward, almost lazily raising her arm around and slashing at the man's neck. He recoiled backwards, head lolling to one side and hit the floor, blood pouring out of his wound, a shocked cry echoing around the hall.

The woman's eyes went wide and she stumbled, falling to her knees as she tried to avoid the still advancing Aela. She disregarded the woman, instead casually stepping over Harknir's stricken body and plunging the blade downwards, ending any remnants of his life.

Vilkas looked at his shield-sister with something approaching reprehension and addressed the woman. "What is your name girl?" She was a girl too, Claudia noticed. Perhaps a year older than me, definitely not ready to see her friend hacked down so brutally.

"You... you killed Harknir!" she wailed.

"He should have dropped his weapon," Aela replied, her voice showing no compassion for the girl. "Stupid people do not live long when I'm around." Her face looked terrifying, Harknir's blood mixing with the tattoos. "Let's hope you're not stupid."

The girl blanched, her face turning white. "Who are you and why are you here?" Vilkas asked.

"Soling, my name is Soling... Arvel brought us here... Arvel the Swift they call him," the girl started hesitantly looking for signs of recognition from Vilkas who prompted her to continue. "He's one of the best thieves in Morrowind?" she continued desperately.

"This Arvel thought there was treasure here?" Vilkas asked, his voice warm and encouraging.

"Yes...treasure," the girl said, as if only now remembered why she was here. "I only came because Bjorn... Did you see Bjorn? He left for Whiterun a few hours... to get supplies in case we had to do some mining."

"No, we have seen no others in here," Vilkas replied. Claudia felt a wave of nausea rising from her stomach, the sight of a man tipping over, an arrow protruding from his chest playing through her mind. "Where is Arvel then?" Vilkas asked.

"He went on ahead," Soling said. "We got this Golden statue off some merchant in Riverwood... it would unlock the path to the treasure he said."

"Why go on his own?" Vilkas asked as Aela wiped her blade across her greaves.

Soling couldn't draw her terrified eyes from her. "I... I don't know. He never really told us what he was doing." Her eyes were welling up, glistening in the torchlight. "Please, can I go after Bjorn? I won't tell no one you were here or anything," she pleaded.

"Go," said Vilkas. "Take some of our food too, here and a spare torch." Soling accepted them with a nervous smile towards Vilkas and a short glance at the body of Harknir before heading off, back towards the wooden steps.

He's much nicer to random treasure hunters we find than to his companions, Claudia thought wryly, watching Soling scuttle up the first of the steps. She was already calling out for Bjorn, her voice echoing through the hall as the faint glow of her torch faded into the dark. I don't know whether to hope that she finds the body or not, Claudia thought as the party turned and searched for a way out of the hall.

They found it, a small passageway which Vilkas, Lydia and Ria struggled to get through, their armour scraping against the stone as they went. Claudia found herself behind Vilkas as the path twisted, heading deeper. He stopped for a second and sniffed before wordlessly passing her the torch and drawing his sword. Farengar came behind her, muttering under his breath.

"How far down is the Dragonstone?" Claudia whispered after a while. Farengar ignored her and kept muttering, words just too quiet for her to make them out.

Vilkas was several paces ahead of her so she had to rush to keep up, stumbling and thrusting the torch into the roof of the tunnel. Something dislodged and fell, silvery in the light, before it caught the flame and burnt up like touch-paper.

"It is almost directly below us," Farengar's voice came from behind her. "I can sense its power." He coughed. "There's a barrier though," he continued irritatedly. "We may be down here longer than I suspected."

"Hello?" came a cry from ahead, causing all of the party to tense, standing silently.

"Harknir?" the voice came again, male and in a strange accent: Elfin, though different to that of the High Elves in the Imperial City. "Bjorn, is that you? It's me Arvel, you have to help me down!"

Vilkas cocked an ear and headed onwards, sword drawn. Claudia followed, trying to draw her sword with her left hand as they turned a corner and entered a small cave, filled dimly with light from a hole high above. Across the cave there seemed to be a figure hovering, arms outstretched, covered with some white substance.

"Argh, not again!" the figure shouted. "Please no, not again!"

Claudia looked left to right, searching for what the elf was shouting about but seeing nothing. Aela rushed past her, sword drawn, staring above her.

"Watch out Claudia!" she heard Lydia yell before she was smashed to the floor, something careering into her back. Her sword and the torch dropped to the floor and skittered across the stone, as she twisted around to see her assailant. A giant spider loomed above, eight eyes darting quickly, trying to guess which way she would roll. It moved quickly, eight legs darting past, flicking Aela and standing over Claudia, a large sting ready to descend upon her.

Claudia rolled left then right, avoiding the spider's jabbed attacks. It hissed in frustration, clattering its teeth and moving across the floor where someone Claudia couldn't see jabbed at it causing a squeal of pain. The spider scuttled to the side, which she used as an opportunity to escape, crawling away and on to her feet. The spider spun and faced her, over twice her height two front legs flicking out towards her, only to find Lydia barring its path, slashing viciously, causing the spider to retreat.

Aela and Vilkas were on the other side however and pushed it back, with Ria attacking recklessly away to her right, carving a big section of spider flesh out from its haunch, black blood oozing down to the floor. The spider screamed, teeth chattering together, for a moment drowning out the shouting of the elf.

Claudia settled herself and drew her bow, which miraculously seemed unharmed despite her rolling on the floor. The spider seemed to be trying to make an escape, charging at Ria, knocking her aside- front legs scrabbling at the wall, trying to climb away but Vilkas hacked at the back legs, whilst Aela fired off an arrow at its haunches.

Claudia waited for the spider to turn around, snapping at Vilkas as it did so before loosing the arrow, aiming for the eyes but firing low. The spider reared, arrow stuck through the roof of its mouth, eyes looking left and right for a way out as Lydia stepped forward, joining Vilkas and Ria in raining down blows on it, forcing it onto its haunches before it finally fell still.

Lydia stabbed the huge mass a few more times before turning back to Claudia to see if she was alright, almost slipping in the black blood covering the stone floor.

"I'm fine Lydia," Claudia reassured her Housecarl, even whilst wincing at the cuts in her back- inflicted by the bow as much as the spider's attacks.

Vilkas and Aela were already investigating the elf, whom she was assuming was Arvel, strung up over the other side of the cave, in what now was clearly the spider's web.

"You've got to let me down," he was saying.

"Why?" Aela asked, voice flat.

"Well, there's only one way through for one," Farengar said behind Claudia, laughing-appearing from safety after the fight.

"Was that the ancient evil then?" Claudia turned and asked him, heart still pounding.

"No, I'm afraid not," Farengar replied, looking thoughtful. "Though it might be what inspired the stories about here. The ancient evil will undoubtedly be a bit more undead"

"Help me down and I'll show you through the barrier down below!" the elf was shouting, almost wailing. "You won't believe the power the Nords have hidden there!"

"What barrier?" Vilkas asked.

Farengar moved forward. "There is a magical barrier ahead," he told Vilkas, certainty in his voice. "Do you have the claw?" he asked the elf.

"Yes, the claw!" Arvel seized on this, trying to indicate where it was with his head. "I know how it all works: the claw, the markings, the door in the Hall of Stories. I know how they all fit together!"

"Where did you get this claw?" Aela asked.

"Bah, I bought it off a trader somewhere... I don't know! Just let me down!"

"We do need the claw," Farengar said. "To get through to the inner sanctum."

Aela got her knife from her belt and set to work hacking away at the web, quickly joined by Ria. The web was springy and resisted their attempts until they brought their swords to it and Arvel came crashing to the ground.

He picked himself up and clawed the white mesh away from his face and legs, revealing the blue-grey tinge of a Dunmer. "Thank you for freeing me," he smiled. "Unfortunately, you are all very behind him with an astonishing turn of pace.

Aela was first to react, leaping in the air and spinning as the Dunmer passed her, grasping one of his ankles, sending him flying forward, head hitting stone with an unsettlingly loud crack.

"I knew he was going to do that," she said laughing as she picked herself up, before breaking his neck just to make sure.

Farengar had already jogged over and begun ripping the rest of the web away from the Dunmer's body looking for something, excitement evidently noticeable. "Ah, one of the legendary claws of the Dova priests," he said, eyes flashing golden in the glow of the claw. "A gold one too, he whistled. "We must be in one of their most important temples. 5000 years ago, the dragon priests of old walked these tunnels doing the bidding..." his wistful voice was cut off.

"How much is it worth?" asked Vilkas.

"Priceless!" Farengar retorted. "By rights it should go in the Jarl's collection, though he doesn't like magical objects around..." he frowned slightly before tucking the claw under one arm and stepping daintily over the dead body. "It is useful, however. I should have thought before we came... we are lucky old Arvel was around when he was!"

Claudia too stepped over the body as they followed Farengar out of the cave and into the gloom, this time without a torch to guide them. "Best stay to the back, whelp," Vilkas said, pushing past her. "Don't want you getting caught up in the middle of the fighting again do we?"

"That was almost nice of him," Claudia whispered to Lydia once Vilkas was out of earshot. "I think he likes me." Lydia snorted loudly causing Ria to look around worriedly.

The spider attack had shocked Claudia, but she felt wide awake and alive in its aftermath. If that'd happened even a week ago I'd have keeled over, she thought. I must be getting used to it.

The tunnel descended steeply in what seemed like a wide spiral for a short while before levelling off when they came to a small chamber.

"Ooh," Farengar gave an excited squeal. "Carvings from... well they look like before the first era?" He stooped down, holding his palm up, a bright light suddenly shooting out from it. "I never thought they would remain in such detail," he quickly moved along the wall, following the stone carvings as they told their story. "Well this is incredible; it seems to tell the story of the last dragon- before they were wiped out. Paarthunax, he was..."

"Look at that!" Ria suddenly exclaimed. Claudia followed her gaze, seeing a shimmering wall at the end of the tunnel.

"A golden wall," Vilkas said entranced, "Well, we can see what Arvel meant when he was talking about treasure."

Aela bounded over to it and touched it carefully, as if fearful it would crumble under her touch.

"Ah yes," Farengar said. "The guardian wall... It's not actually gold I'm afraid." Vilkas looked at him disappointed. "That is a magical barrier, impossible for any mortal to breach."

"So, we kill ourselves and go through as Draugr?" Aela asked, knocking the barrier, which seemed to react just like normal metal, a clang echoing through the small chamber. "I nominate Vilkas."

"I wouldn't look half as good dead and you know it, Aela," Vilkas retorted, laughing.

"Given a few days I could wear down the defences until I broke through, though there would definitely be safeguards against that," Farengar said. "However, with our friend Arvel's golden claw, we should be able to open it properly, as the Dragon Priests did all those ages ago."

[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]

It didn't take days, but the adrenaline from the fight with the spider had worn off by the time Farengar finally managed to twist the rings in the wall to his satisfaction.

"You might want to stand back," he warned. "If I've got this wrong we may all die."

Claudia closed her eyes as he slotted the claw into a hole, right in the middle of the doorway and turned it. A loud grinding sound made her flinch backwards, before a collective exhalation of breath persuaded her to open her eyes.

The circles in the wall span around violently, before individually clanging to a halt and the whole wall sank into the ground, leaving behind only a large cloud of dust swirling up. Claudia closed her eyes again and coughed loudly before peering through into what lay beyond.

"No one has stepped through here in more than 5000 years," Farengar said his voice full of uncontained glee. "Watch where you step, there may still be traps around."

"And dead people..." Aela said, smiling at Claudia as she did so, falling in besides her as they strode into the sanctum.

"There'll be Draugr in here?" Claudia asked nervously.

"Almost certainly," Aela said. "I've been in enough crypts in my time."

"They're not a just story then?" Lydia asked worriedly.

"In the old days magic was much more powerful than it is now," Aela said. "Curses cast would never end."

"Can Draugr be killed then?" Claudia asked as Aela moved ahead, going into single file.

"All prey can be killed," she replied. "You just have to hack this prey into more pieces."

She is rather scary, Claudia thought, remembering the way Aela had killed Harknir. But there's just something alluring about her, even when she is talking about hacking dead bodies apart.

Aela moved silently ahead of her as the passageway narrowed again, on tiptoes, Claudia noticed, and ready to react to a threat at any moment.

They suddenly stopped, Farengar holding his hand up as they reached the entrance to yet another cave. "It is near," he said. "Spread out, let's find it."

Whilst nowhere near as big as the grand hall where they had found Harknir and Soling, this place was elaborately decorated, carvings covering every inch of the wall, images of dragons, men and mer all depicted clearly, barely eroded at all in the warm, still air.

"No Draugr then?" Ria asked in a slightly disappointed tone as they made their way into the cave unmolested.

"What have I told you about saying things like that, puppy?" Aela reprimanded.

It wasn't a cave, Claudia saw as they moved further in, but a crypt. In the centre there lay a large stone coffin, littered in odd letters and pictograms. All around the edges were further coffins, stood upright, some of them broken open though inside they looked empty.

"The tomb of the founder of the cult, I guess," Farengar said indicating the large coffin. "The Dragonstone may be inside, though we would do well to try all other avenues before we disturb it."

The group spread out, looking into coffins looking for the stone. "No bigger than a shield," Farengar had said. "Though not much smaller either." Yet nothing seemed to fit the description, indeed there was nothing of any interest around the floor, only bits of rubble and collected dust laid thick over the floor.

Claudia moved towards the back of the cave, up some steps towards a curved wall at the back. It looked smoother than the rest, and felt it too, as she brushed a small amount of dust away, revealing thinly etched characters on the wall.

"Words in the Dragon tongue!" Farengar exclaimed softly behind her, sounding as if he might collapse right there. "It says: let's see, Het Nok, hmm... Here sleeps..."

"Here lies the guardian, keeper of Dragonstone, and a force of unending rage and darkness," Claudia finished for him.

Farengar took a sharp intake of breath. "How could you... what in the..."

Claudia ignored him, instead focussing on the dragon characters. It's just like reading Cyrillic, she thought, her eye was drawn towards the word for force.

"**FUS**," she said out loud as things came together in her mind for the first time.

"What was that?" Farengar demanded. "What did you..."

Again he was interrupted but this time from behind him. A loud crunching sound came, followed by a roar, rattling through the air, seeming shaking Claudia where she stood. She turned, to see with horror a fist smashed through the top of the stone coffin in the centre of the cave, a huge fist devoid of all but a few scraps of skin, fingers seemingly broken backwards. All around, Companions, mages and Housecarls alike stood still in shocked silence.

The arm moved sideways and a scraping noise echoed around before the coffin lid dropped to the floor and a figure sat up, seemingly breaking the spell. Vilkas and Ria ran forwards, drawing swords in readiness whilst Aela scooped up her bow and Lydia ran towards Claudia.

The figure took Vilkas' first blow on the chest without even staggering as it stood, picking up its own Greatsword one handed as it did so, parrying his second blow with ease, before backhanding Ria with a loud crack, sending her flying across the room.

Stood straight, the figure was about 8 feet tall, wearing a rusted hauberk and scraps of leather armour. Skin and tissue stuck to part of his bone but not all, clumps falling off as it stood and fought, huge sword in one skeletal hand. The eyes had disappeared completely; empty sockets save for two bright blue pinpricks of light which gazed menacingly out.

"Oh shit," Claudia heard Farengar mutter. "A Deathlord."

Claudia remembered herself and tried firing an arrow, missing as the Draugr rained down blows against Vilkas driving him backwards and down to his knees. Aela did not miss, however, an arrow flying straight into the Deathlord's face, forcing it a step backwards. "**HET NOK FaaL VahLOK**" its voice screamed, hoarse and rattly before it turned and looked straight at Farengar. "**FO**" it yelled and a torrent of ice spewed from its mouth towards the mage, just as it had from the dragon by the watchtower.

Farengar was ready however; he pushed his hands forward and fired flames from them, melting through the ice and setting the Deathlord on fire. This didn't seem to concern the corpse however, and neither did the blow which Vilkas struck on its neck from behind, which would have severed the head of any normal mortal. Claudia fired another arrow, this time hitting the chest, though it was not enough to halt the charge of the Deathlord as it advanced, sword raised towards Farengar. Lydia smashed her sword into the top of one leg, chipping bone and dislodging skin but with no other effect.

Farengar raised his hands but it was too late, the sword scything through his wrist as it went down, burying itself in his chest. Lydia grabbed Claudia and dragged her away, though her eyes never left the sight of the mage.

The Deathlord pulled the sword free, covered in blood, some pink tubes flopping free onto the floor, roaring as it did so, drowning out Farengar's final gurgle.

It turned, still ignoring the flames licking around the exposed bones and faced its remaining five foes, all now in one corner of the cave. Ria was up again, leaning against a wall, though her face was a bloody mess and Vilkas had blood dripping off the end of his fingers.

Aela fired more arrows as the Deathlord advanced on them, though none of them slowed it, whilst Claudia shakily tried to get her own bow to fire, unable to before it was too late and the Deathlord was upon them, blade ready to swing, before it seemed to think better of it.

"**FUS**" the Deathlord shouted instead, casting all around Claudia backwards and into the wall, loud clangs as metal hit stone.

Claudia, however, was able to stand against the voice, feeling a strong wind force her a step backwards, but no more. The Deathlord stared at her, blue eyes exuding a mixture of shock and malevolence, before tossing its head back to shout again.

Claudia was too quick this time "**FUS**" she shouted back with all her strength, feeling the power surge out of her throat, through her mouth, and strike the Deathlord full flush. It hit the corpse with such impact that bones began to fly apart even before it careered backwards, lifted into the air and clattering into a wall far at the other side of the cave, where it smashed apart, blue lights extinguished from the skull.


End file.
